


Fish Bowl

by RK80O



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assault, Bad Parent Amanda (Detroit: Become Human), Brotherly Bonding, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connor Deserves Happiness, Control Issues, Depressed Hank Anderson, Drug Use, Food Issues, Forced Prostitution, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Human Trafficking, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Kidnapping, Past Brainwashing, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Hank Anderson, Self-Harm, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 65,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26186311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RK80O/pseuds/RK80O
Summary: Hank wasn’t a cop anymore, but he had been when Captain Allen’s twin boys disappeared. Reed never expected a drunken fool like Hank to be the one to find them but he would do anything he could to get Nines his brothers back
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 113
Kudos: 125





	1. Bourbon

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Like a Living Human](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16062104) by [somanyfeels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyfeels/pseuds/somanyfeels). 



> *DISCLAIMER* There will be no chapters featuring and showing non-con/dub-con but there will be several chapters where that trauma and experience is discussed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The human au/prostitute fic that no one asked for.

Hank was familiar enough with the Eden club. It was a “luxury gentlemen's club.” It was a strip club with a cover charge so ridiculously high that no one in their right mind would ever be able to get in. Cash only. Hank would never get into this place under any other circumstances. It was more than he would ever make on unemployment, and yet he got wads of cash at home as a gift and all he had to do was come to the Eden Club, go up to the bar, and ask for ‘bourbon in a tall, pale glass’. It was all to elaborate but Hank should have expected it considering this was the most expensive glass of whiskey he ever had.

At least the bartender never asked for payment. Hank didn’t want to pay for another damn thing while he was here. He settled into the barstool and braced his arms against the long counter. His head was already pounding and Hank had yet to recover from drinking the night before. He finished one glass of whiskey and waved down another, which the bartender poured for him without a word. Hank hoped the drinks were free. He hoped that after the amount of money he paid to get in he wouldn’t be charged for anything else the rest of the night. Hank tossed the drink back and waved down another one.

So far the night was turning out fine. He was upholding his end of the deal, doing exactly as he was instructed to. Drink at the bar and wait. He paid no mind to the stage behind him, or the dancers he had barely even glanced at. The club was mostly empty, a few people watching the dancers in the low lights. Hank and the bartender were the only ones sitting on this side of the club. It was quiet and calm and it was easy to forget what kind of place he was in. This was just a bar after all. This was just a place to drink.

Hank leaned heavily on the bar. He let the glass in front of him refill and empty. And refill and empty. The whiskey was expensive and Hank could tell, it didn’t burn as much as it went down and the taste was almost sweet. He really hoped there wasn’t a bill adding up that he would have to pay for when he left. A couple hundred to walk through the door and Hank felt he shouldn’t have to pay for anything else. He was hoping to keep a good chunk of the money he was given to come here and do this.

Within half an hour of drinking, all Hank observed was the soft murmur of the small group of ken near the stage, the soft click of the dancers’ shoes, and low thumping rhythm of the soft music. Compared to other strip clubs that Hank had been to, it was quiet and muted. Far too calm, but Hank’s past experiences were always coming to the clubs as crime scenes or bachelor parties. Not that he had a place at either of those events anymore.

“Sir, your room is ready,” the bartender said when Hank lifted his hand to wave down another drink.

The half hour wait had been expected. Hank’s drink order was a specific request, one he was told to repeat exactly as practiced, if he was going to get to where he needed to be. As much as he would love to linger at the bar, he did come here for a reason. Hank looked up at the bartender, the liquor churning heavily in his stomach, his hand clenched around his glass for a moment. The bartender nodded behind him and Hank looked over his shoulder to see a woman standing near a side door. She looked normal, in a simple blue dress and her blond hair pulled back in a professional ponytail. She looked like she was about to call him back for a job interview.

“One more drink for the road,” Hank said, tapping his glass with his fingernail.

The bartender refilled the cup and Hank knocked it back before turning away from the bar entirely. He walked up to the woman and gave her a polite smile as she stepped back and ushered him in through the door. Beyond that was a staircase. Bright fluorescent lights beamed at them as they descended down into the basement level of the club. Their feet echoed on the cement stairs and bounced off of the cement walls. Hank’s vision blurred for a moment and his hand darted out to grip the cold wall. His balance shifted too far to the side and he worried he would fall and stumble. And what a way to die, disappointing everyone a final time because he couldn’t cut back on the drinks.

He regained himself after a few extending moments and the woman was thankfully silent. He followed her the rest of the way at a slower pace, still supported by a hand on the wall. There was nothing but a hallway when they reached the bottom. A long line of concrete walls with a series of doors on each side. It went directly under the club and if Hank listened carefully he could still hear the low thump of the dance music.

“You haven’t been to our establishment before,” the woman said. She started to walk forward.

“Nope.”

“Then welcome. We are a very discrete business and we appreciate our customers respecting that. We want you to understand that our business is private and your enjoyment here will also be private. All of our dancers have a specific attached order, feel free to ask if you see someone you like. You’ve made a fine selection today,” she said calmly. Hank followed a step behind her until they came to a door towards the far end of the hallway, the last one. “Light bruising is permitted. No scars. No permanent damage. No photography. Condoms are mandatory and you get one hour. Please do tell us how you enjoy your experience with him.”

Hank clenched his jaw and nodded his head. “I understand, Miss.”

She gave him a small smile, his expression mostly blank. There was a slight pinch between her eyebrows. She lifted her hand and knocked twice before twisting the lock and opening the door and stepping back. Hank took it as his cue to enter and he pulled the door shut behind him without saying goodbye to her. She likely had little interest in him and she wasn’t who Hank was here to see. The person he was actually here to see was sitting on the bed in the middle of the small room. Hank had never met him before, had never seen him, and until yesterday he hadn’t even known the boy existed. The kid looked like shit. His bony frame was barely hidden under the white t-shirt he wore was several sizes too big and hung off of one shoulder. A messy amount of glitter was smeared and faded around his eyes and sparkled dully under the lights, which made him appear young. He was thin and lanky. He looked young but there was the slightest appearance of wrinkles on his forehead, barely present enough to age him. His hands were folded on his lap, fingernails picking at themselves. He blinked slowly and stared off to the side, like he hadn’t even noticed Hank enter.

Hank cleared his throat. Connor turned his head to him, eyes blinking quickly. He stood up from the bed and let his hands drop to his side. His weight shifted as he turned to face him fully. Thin, Hank noted, with dark circles around his eyes. Connor smiled, his lips still pressed tightly together, and took a single step forward.

“We’re gonna have a good time tonight,” Connor said flatly. He seemed calm as he stood in front of the bed. “A really good time. What would you like me to call you?”

He was supposed to give an alias. Hank was technically here buying a prostitute and he was supposed to be discrete. He was supposed to play the part. He was a broken, drunk ex-cop with nothing better to do than be here getting his rocks off in a fancy sex club. Maybe Connor was asking to see if Hank wanted to be called something during sex, or maybe it was just an introduction to help make this seem normal, or maybe Connor was just curious. Still, Hank knew he wasn’t supposed to give his actual name. He could do whatever he wanted to this man and the only rules were to not take photographs and not leave scars. He had expected this. Hell, Hank had been warned about this.

“Listen, I’ve never done this before,” He said. Hank took a step further into the room. “Call me whatever you want.”

“In order to ensure privacy and discretion, I can refer to you as simply ‘John’ unless you have a preference of what you want to be called,” Connor said. His gaze drifted 

Hank wrinkled his nose as he looked around.

His eyes looked over the small room to find somewhere to throw up, but he knew he hadn’t gotten so drunk he would make himself sick. It was the stress. Hank should have stayed at the bar. He wouldn’t be so stressed to the point he had to cross his hands behind his back and clench them into fists. This wasn’t a situation Hank had ever expected to find himself in. The closest he was ever to a prostitute was back when he was still a cop. Usually when he was on the Red Ice Task Force and he would try to talk to them. They never said anything substantial. The police weren’t the most trusted people on that side of Detroit but Hank always left a business card with them when he talked to them on the street. ‘In case they need anything,’ he would always say. Hank was tempted to pat down his pockets and seek out the cards that he no longer carried. Not that he expected Connor to give him a call.

“What should I call you?” Hank asked.

He wasn’t technically supposed to know Connor’s name, but he already did.

“You can call me whatever you like? I’m here to be anything you want me to be.”

Connor smiled, but the expression was stiff. His lips stretched back and he showed his teeth, eyes squinting slightly. It was a poorly rehearsed expression, one that held no real feeling behind it. If this was supposed to play up a fantasy then Hank would definitely need more to drink to be convinced. The kid took another step closer and Hank lifted a hand to stop him and his fingers jabbed against Connor’s chest. Hank kept him at arm's length, still not certain of whether or not he was going to throw up. The alcohol didn’t want to settle in his stomach and Hank didn’t want Connor to stand close to him.

“Is there something bothering you that I can help with?” Connor said. He smiled again as he looked down at Hank’s hand still pressed against his chest. “I can help you get your mind off of things if you tell me what you want me to do.”

Hank let his hand drop. “Just give me a minute. I don’t know what to do with you.”

He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. He wasn’t going to do anything with Connor. Seeing him in this place, offering himself up on a platter without batting an eye, really through Hank for a loop. Neither of them were supposed to be here.

“It’s natural to be nervous your first time. I can take the lead if you would prefer. I can be good,” Connor said.

“You know what I need?” Hank asked. He reached up and rubbed frantically at his eyes. “I need to use the restroom. Do you have one in here?”

“Of course.” With a curt nod he stepped back and gestured to the only other doorway in the room.

Hank stepped around Connor, giving him a wide berth so as to avoid touching him. ‘Doorway’ wasn’t an exact description. There wasn’t even a door, just a gap in the wall that led to another concrete room with a ceramic sink, a toilet, and a showerhead. Not even a full shower. There was no tub, no curtain, and no sense of privacy. It was hardly separate from the room with the bed, nightstand and the single dresser with a few drawers. Hank glanced back over his shoulder and found that he could still see clearly into the next room and, as a result, Connor could look back at him as he stood in the exact same spot, unmoving.

“Can you go sit down and wait? I need a minute,” Hank said, furrowing his brows.

“Of course.”

Hank huffed through his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. This couldn’t be real. He must be drunk, passed out in the alley behind Jimmy’s and having some kind of drunken fever dream. He could still hear the soft patter of feet on the cement floors in the next room. Barefoot, he noted. Hank took a deep breath and opened his eyes again to star across the room and the blank wall above the sink. There wasn’t a mirror.

The wave of nausea passed and Hank pushed off of the wall. The room was cold and the air felt clammy against his skin and the entire room felt damp. He could see the water glistening around the drain under the showerhead. Someone had showered recently. Hank leaned over slightly to peer around the doorframe to see the boy sitting on the bed with his hands folded on his lap and noted the wet clumps of Connor’s hair. He had showered before Hank had come in, likely while he had been waiting and drinking at the bar.

Hank walked closer to the shower area, eyeing the clumps of hair stuck in the drain. Each strand was the same dark, silky brown. The shower was frequently used, but only by one. Hank crouched down and pulled the hair from the drain. He had a ziplock bag in his pocket and quickly shoved the mess in before shaking the water from his fingers. This was a special request and Hank didn’t know of any other way to get a DNA sample.

There was a bar of soap on the sink and Hank quickly scrubbed the gross feeling of wet hair from his hands. The water was scolding hot as he scrubbed his hands raw. Disgust sent a shiver up his spine and the nausea curdled in his stomach again. This place made him sick. The implications of what he was seeing and what he had been told was dark and twisted and Hank was filthy just being here. He felt it clinging to his skin. Hank lathered up the soap onto his hands and rinsed it off again and again until he felt the skin was about to crack and bleed. There wasn’t a towel to dry them off on so Hank just patted them dry on his shirt, crumpling it under his fingers. 

When he finally emerged from the bathroom again, Connor was still sitting in the exact same spot with his hands folded neatly on his lap. He blinked and turned back to Hank and the blank expression on his face quickly shifted into a soft smile.

“There you are,” Connor said. He stood up and his hands bunched up the front of his shirt. “Are you nervous about this?”

Hank sighed. “Yeah. Nervous doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“It’s alright to be nervous your first time. It’s normal, but try to remember that tonight is about you. I’m here to make you feel good. It’ll be easy,” Connor said. He walked slowly away from the bed and towards Hank. His fingers released themselves from their tight grip on his shirt. Connor’s hands came to rest against Hank’s chest, slowly drifting upwards. His voice got softer as he got closer. “Tell me what you like. Do you want me on the bed? On my knees? I can beg you for it if you want me to. I can be whatever you want me to be.”

It was fake. All of it. Connor’s eyes stared blankly at some spot over Hank’s shoulder as he whispered the words. Hank recoiled, his face twitching. With a quick step back, he grabbed tightly onto Connor’s wrist and nearly shoved him back. Everything about Connor and this basement room under a strip club was so phoney it pissed him off. Hank couldn’t stand being a part of it. He knew what someone in this position was supposed to do. They were supposed to ignore the blank look in Connor’s eyes and the empty smile on his face. They weren’t supposed to question the lock on the outside of the door or the way he had to order Connor like he was ordering something to drink. Hank, like every other patron of the bar, was supposed to shove it in the back of his mind and enjoy what he paid for.

“I don’t want you to touch me,” Hank hissed.

Connor hesitated for only a moment with only the slightest twitch to his eyebrows. He had ducked his head when Hank had pushed him back and Connor didn’t raise it again to look him in the eye.

“Okay. You want me like this?” Connor asked softly as he pulled his hands behind his back.

“Jesus Fucking Christ,” Hank said. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. The air in this room was heavy.

“I have a few things if you would like to secure my hands behind my back. It’ll make sure I don’t touch you. Would you like that?” Connor said.

“No.”

“Okay.”

There was a moment of silence. Connor stood between Hank and the bed, his eyes down on the floor with his hands behind his back. There was a slight slump to his shoulders. He looked more submissive, a bit less empty, and Hank tried not to scream because now it seemed like Connor was _afraid_ of him. Amd why wouldn’t he be? Hank had shoved him and while the kid’s voice grew quieter his own had gotten close to shouting.

“Shit,” Hank said quickly. “I’m sorry.”

Connor’s head snapped up, eyes blinking several times before he spoke. “I don’t understand.”

“I said I was sorry. You know, for shouting,” Hank said.

“You’re anxious,” Connor said, nodding to himself. “You haven’t broken any rules, don’t worry. You won’t get in trouble for yelling. You can hit me if you want. You can punish me if I make you angry. I’m here for you, for anything.”

All Connor would talk about was Hank, how comfortable he was, and what he wanted Connor to do. He spoke about it as if it was fine. There wasn’t anything to indicate that Connor would refuse anything Hank asked for. Connor was here saying it was okay if Hank beat him and the words if the woman echoed in his mind when she named off the rules. No scars. No photographs. But nothing about hurting him and Hank hated seeing how Connor just offered himself up.

“I want…” the words vanished before he could even get them out. Hank didn’t know what he was supposed to say. He didn’t want to pretend anymore, he didn’t want to be part of this case, and he definitely didn’t want to be here. There was only one thing he actually wanted. “I’m going to leave.”

“You just got here,” Connor said as he took a few steps closer to Hank.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

Hank turned his back to Connor and took several long steps towards the door. The air tasted sour and Hank felt the nausea just rush back. It burned at the back of his throat. His hand gripped the doorknob tightly and tried to twist it, the door shaking slightly against the frame, but it stayed latched shut. They were locked in. Hank had Connor for an hour and he doubted he even used twenty minutes yet. There was no reason to lock the door, there was no good reason to trap Hank in here. He was supposed to be a customer, not a prisoner. Hank jiggled the doorknob roughly to try and loosen it. He would break it off if he had to.

“They won’t refund you for your unused time,” Connor said, causing Hank to look over his shoulder at him.

“Why the fuck is the door locked?”

Connor was sitting on the bed again, hands folded in his lap, fingers tapping against his palm. He tilted his head to the side and gave Hank a stiff smile.

“It’s always locked,” Connor said.

Hank turned back and started to beat his fist against the door, the wood shaking against the frame. He was going to scream. They must have known who he was and why he was here. Even though he wasn’t a cop anymore they must have been suspicious enough of him. Or it was a trap. His hand ached as he pounded in the door and the pain moved up his wrist to his elbow. He was about to scream for help when the door finally pulled open and the same woman appeared on the other side.

She looked at Hank, at the beads of sweat dripping down his face and his fist raised in the air. “Are you done already, sir?” She asked as her eyes drifted behind him to Connor.

Hank looked over his shoulder. Connor was still dressed and untouched, his eyes were on his hands watching his fingers tap against his palm. He didn’t look up to watch Hank leave.

“I’m done here,” Hank said and shouldered past the woman.

Stepping out of the room was like stepping into a different atmosphere. The heavy, humid air of the room disappeared as he entered the freezing hallway. He turned around in time to see the woman pull the door shut and twist the lock again. She smiled politely at him, neatly folding her arms behind her back. She turned towards the stairway at the end of the hall and then walked with Hank towards the stairs.

“Did you not like him?” She asked. Her tone was soft. “If you were disappointed then we can provide you with another to finish out your hour. What did he do wrong?”

Hank glanced to the side at her just a moment before looking away. He was tempted to count how many doors they passed on each side. Hank looked back and counted. A dozen on each side. Twenty four rooms.

“He didn’t do anything wrong. He was perfect,” Hank said.

Hank took the steps one at a time, his hand reached out to brace against the cement wall for support as his head started to spin. He needed to get out of this place. The air tasted sour and stale, his skin was starting to feel sticky and sweaty, and he couldn’t hold off throwing up for very much longer. They reached the top of the stairs and took a few steps into the club. He could feel the soft beat of the music vibrating through the floors and pounding in his head. The purple lights were swirling around the platform as several dancers drifted around with more men in the audience than there had been when he left.

“The ones on the stage are the ones available right now if you would like to have a look. If you request one that’s currently occupied you can return to the bar and wait,” The woman said. Hank could hear the smile in her tone without having to look over and see it.

Hank shook his head. “I’m done for tonight.”

“We do have quite a selection. If he didn’t satisfy you then we probably have someone else who will. If he made a mistake, we can correct it,” She said. She kept talking. She kept saying such fucked up shit with the tone of a saleswoman trying to sell him a used car off the lot.

“He was fine. I just had a bit much to drink,” Hank said. He had a few drinks, but his tolerance was too high at this point to be as shitfaced as he wanted to be.

“Of course, sir. Shall I call a cab for you?” She asked.

“No, I’ll just be heading out,” Hank said.

She wished him a safe trip home and handed him a business card that he hastily shoved in his pocket. He didn’t look back as he walked to the door and Hank’s whole body was tense as he walked. He was waiting for someone to stop him, grab him, or kill him while his back was turned. He had witnessed so much and he was about to carry that information out of there.

It was even colder outside when the door swung closed behind him. Snow drifted slowly in the wind, swirling over the sidewalk. Hank took two steps away from the door and immediately hunched over to the side. He braced his hands on the trash can by the door and dragged it close to him as he started to gag. The liquor burned more coming back up than it did going down. Tears stung at his eyes. He vomited everything in his stomach until he was left dry heaving and gasping for air as he bent over the trash in front of the club. The woman was probably watching him. Whoever ran this hellhole probably had cameras up. What did they think of him? Some sort of drunk fool? Or someone sickened by what he had come here to do?

He stumbled back and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He couldn’t stay here any longer. Hank was expected to have a post-sex club meeting about what he saw and what he had learned but Hank just wanted to drink. He didn’t want to think about that place any more. He didn’t want to look everyone in the eye and tell them about Connor in his little cement room in the basement of the Eden Club. Hank stopped at a convenient store and grabbed a bottle off of the shelf. He started drinking on the walk home. It wasn’t far now that he had something to muddle his thoughts the time seemed to fly by faster.

Hank made it home before anyone else arrived. He had knocked back a good portion of the bottle. Sumo greeted him at the door, sniffing wildly at his hand to look for pets or treats. Hank walked past him and into the kitchen to grab the glass. They would be here soon and Hank would rather be shitfaced when he had to tell them about Connor. It curdled inside of him, the sick feeling of disgust he had just being in that place. He remembered Connor from before. Small with big round eyes, a goofy grin and popsicles staining his face red. Hank remembered Connor’s sticky fingers when he asked Hank a million questions about his badge. The missing persons poster was still laminated and posted on the bulletin in the precinct, or it had been the last time Hank had been there. He pulled open the kitchen drawer, the gun sliding to the front in a loud clatter. Hank filled up his glass and knocked it back. It was more effort than drinking straight from the bottle and it was the closest he could get to cutting back.

His eyes lingered on the gun for a moment, the upside down picture frame. He wasn’t drunk enough to flip it over. He would rather be blackout drunk before he looked at that picture so he would wake up in the morning and not remember how much it hurts. Hank set his glass down and carefully lifted it up to grab one of the wrinkled papers underneath. It was a drawer full of important things he never looked at. He usually only opened the drawer for the gun. With the papers laid out on the counter he quickly shoved the drawer closed again. There was a copy of it somewhere in the pile of divorce papers and funeral bills. An old poster that Captain Allen had given to him when Hank was still a rookie cop. Allen had printed hundreds of them and passed them around all over the city when the twins first went missing.

Hank smoothed out the wrinkles of the faded paper and tried to make out the details of the kid’s faces. He didn’t really need to try and compare Connor’s face to the little boys on the poster because he already knew it was him. Hank didn’t have to guess at what these kids would look like as adults.

He lifted his head quickly as his front door opened and loudly swung shut. He almost lost his balance, stumbling back in his rush to see who had come in.

“Should have known you wouldn’t be able to stay sober for this one night,” Reed said as he marched through the living room and into the kitchen.

“Shut the fuck up. I have had a really stressful, really shitty night and hearing your voice is just the icing on the cake,” Hank said. He grimaced in annoyance and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Where’s Richard?”

“Nines couldn’t make it,” Reed said.

Hank narrowed his eyes at him at the nickname that left Reed’s mouth. “You couldn’t tell your boyfriend that you found his long lost brothers? Kinda messed up.”

“I wanted to be sure of the facts. We found Colin but was Connor even in the club?”

“He was.”

Reed’s body tensed and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “He was?” He repeated.

“Yeah. He looked like shit,” Hank said. He moved back to the counter where he left the missing persons poster, his empty glass, and half drunk bottle. He needed another drink.

“He’s not okay?”

“There are twenty four rooms in the basement and all the doors lock on the outside. You know what they told me? They said I could do whatever I wanted to him as long as I didn’t leave a scar or take a picture,” Hank said. He didn’t know if he should bring up the dazed look in the kid’s eyes or the uncaring way he was just handing himself over to Hank the moment he came through the door.

Reed shifted his weight from foot to foot, staring blankly at some unknown spot on the floor. Hank wasn’t sure what was going on in his head. This wasn’t a case he was assigned to. This wasn’t even anything the police knew about and Hank didn’t know if they should get them involved or not. Captain Allen was still working for SWAT and Nines had just made detective and moved in with Reed. This wasn’t just a missing persons case, this was their family. And Colin had come to Hank directly to go in there to find Connor with specific instructions to not involve the cops. The twins found their way to him.

“Hey, I almost forgot. Grabbed this for you just like you wanted,” Hank said. He knocked back another drink and then pulled the ziplock back from his pocket. “Pulled a wad of hair out of the shower drain. Pretty sure it’s all his but I could be wrong. I never actually asked his name but he’s the spitting image of Richard so if they really are brothers the DNA would match. Then you’ll know for sure if it’s really them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference:  
> Connor is Connor  
> Colin is 60  
> Richard/Nines is RK900
> 
> Please please please tell me what you think


	2. Deep Dish

Reed waited by his phone. It would take a few days for the lab to get back with him about the DNA results, but he told the lab techs that it was a high priority. He was comparing the hair in the bag Anderson had grabbed the hair that Gavin was able to pull from Nines’ brush. Visually it looked similar, the same color, the same loose kind of curls. It didn’t mean anything, there was only so much he could determine from just looking at it. He wanted to be absolutely certain before he told Nines. There couldn’t be any room for mistakes. Even though Anderson had insisted that these men were identical to Nines, it didn’t mean they were his brothers. Gavin didn’t see them. Anderson was a drunken idiot who probably was talking to himself in the mirror and still thought it was Connor.

Gavin looked at Nines’ face every single day. He saw the little wrinkles between his eyebrows when he was frustrated. He knew what both of his parents looked like and had seen every picture of his brothers when they were kids. Gavin had seen every photo album. Each photo was labeled with names and ages. The twins were a year older, but Nines had grown taller faster and each photo looked like a set of identical triplets. Gavin knew what Richard’s brothers would look like. If he had seen Connor or Colin, Gavin would know if it was them. He didn’t trust Anderson to know shit.

“Are you okay?” Nines said. He squeezed Gavin’s shoulder as he walked up to his desk and leaned against it. “You were staring a hole into the paperwork. Tough case?”

“Yeah,” Gavin said. He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his seat.

“You want to tell me about it? Maybe I can help,” Nines offered. It wasn’t an unusual request for them. A fresh set of eyes could sometimes see things that slipped through the cracks in an investigation.

“It’s not that kind of tough case,” Gavin said.

The smile on Nines’ face slipped slightly. He nodded his head and hummed an understanding tone. This technically was a case. A cold case and not one he had been assigned to. He was in narcotics, the only missing people he had to deal with were suppliers on the streets or lost junkies. He wasn’t good at dealing with families. He didn’t know how Nines worked these kinds of cases. Gavin might have good news, the DNA test might come back positive, and he would be able to tell Nines that his brothers had been found after so many years. And he was terrified. Gavin didn’t know how to have a conversation like that. He didn’t know how to start it. He had to be absolutely certain before he said a thing, and then they would have to tell Fowler. They would have to get Connor out of there. They would have to reach out to Colin. Everything would change and Gavin had to figure out how to tell him.

“I was thinking maybe we could invite your dad over for dinner,” Gavin said.

The wrinkle appeared between Nines’ brows and Gavin knew he didn’t like the idea. His body shifted slightly away and his eyes drifted around the room as if the simple mention had caused his father to appear in the precinct.

“Why?” Nines asked, his tone dropping slightly.

“Well because you never see him. Thanksgiving is coming up, and we already agreed to go to your mom’s. You should try to see him at least once,” Gavin said. He had thought about suggesting it for a while, but never saw a reason to bother bringing it up. 

It was a sore subject.

“Last time we had him for dinner was a disaster and I thought we agreed to never invite him over again. You remember how angry he made both of us, how infuriating he can be, why would you want to put us through that again,” Nines said quickly.

“He’s family. You can’t just wash your hands of him and be done with it. What if something happens?” Gavin said.

“Nothing is going to happen. He’s going to show up and complain like he always does. He’s not happy being around us, we’re not happy being around him. Let’s just drop it,” Nines said.

He wasn’t looking at Gavin anymore. His expression was no longer soft and concerned as when he offered Gavin help with a case. His jaw was clenched tight and his eyes piercing the spot on the desk between them. It was such a touchy subject that this was the exact reason he never found the need to bring it up. It wasn’t worth a fight.

Just on the off chance Anderson wasn’t deliriously drunk the other night and did happen to see Connor then Gavin didn’t feel right having the family so at ends. He didn’t even know what Allen had done to make Nines so angry, but it had to be serious. It wasn’t something Nines had shared with him yet and usually they shared everything with one another.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin said. He didn’t want Nines to be angry.

“Don’t be. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to have him over right now,” Nines said flatly.

Gavin nodded. He could put this conversation off for a while. If the results came back positive, then Allen deserved to know his boys were found as soon as Nines did. Gavin would rather tell them together. Even though conversations like that were supposed to be happy ones, it still didn’t feel happy. It didn’t sit right in his chest carrying this information around with him without being able to share it. Even though it would be happy news, it would be devastating. Connor was in a sex club. They would have to raid the place and rescue him. Gavin didn’t even have word on how Colin was. The best case scenario would be to have both of the brothers saved.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Nines said. His tone turned soft as he reached out and cupped a hand on Gavin’s cheek. “I shouldn’t have gotten snippy with you. It’s just complicated with him. There’s stuff I don’t want to deal with him yet. I didn’t mean to get angry with you, especially when you’re dealing with a hard case.”

“Don’t worry. I think I might catch a lucky break,” Gavin said. He didn’t want to be hopeful.

“Well good. You need a lucky break. Not that I doubt your abilities as a detective, but you could use some good luck,” Nines said with a smile.

“I feel like you’re sassing me, Richard. I feel vaguely insulted,” Gavin said.

“I wasn’t sassing you.” The smile grew wider.

“Maybe you were.”

Nines smiled wide enough to make his nose wrinkle. “Maybe you should be more focused on your case and not whether or not I’m sassing you. Then you wouldn’t need luck.”

“Shut up!”

They were at work. Not on break but clocked in for a shift and that meant they couldn’t spend the whole day sitting and talking. Nines was getting ready to leave for an investigation and Reed still had the pile of paperwork he had been ignoring up to this point. He had too much on his mind. This wasn’t even his family, it was Richard’s. There were his older brothers that were missing and yet Gavin felt so involved that his thoughts only ever lingered on the huge, unlikely possibility that they were alive and found. And this could be what Nines would need to heal his family. Gavin wasn’t sure what that would mean for him, but he knew how much Nines missed and wanted his two older brothers.

After Nines had left the station with his partner and another failed attempt to focus on his paperwork Gavin decided to give up. There was no way he could be an effective detective right now when the only thing on his mind was whatever Anderson had going on. He quickly pulled out his phone and texted the man.

‘Any word on anything?’

Gavin hadn’t heard back from the labs yet, he had dropped the hair off only yesterday, but he was feeling impatient. He wanted answers. He could hardly stand to wait days for the results, and he couldn’t imagine waiting twenty years like Nines had done. He couldn’t stand waiting every single day wondering when he was going to get answers. It was enough to make him go mad. And he was also stuck waiting for Anderson to respond and the bastard didn’t even have a day job.

Gavin stood up and stretched. His muscles were getting stiff and starting to ache from just sitting. It was the worst part of work, the sitting. The waiting. And this wasn’t even his case. No one had been actively looking for the twins in years. It was a cold case and the leads had all dried up. The only substantial part of the case was a single eyewitness testimony from a five-year-old child. He looked over to Richard’s desk. It was clean, the top was spotless without even a single spec of dust. Nothing was out of place. Gavin slowly moved over to it, eyeing the nine black pens upside down in the Red Wings coffee mug Gavin had bought for him. Nine different colors of post-it notes sat waiting to be used around the perimeter of the desk. Nine little notes on the margin of his calendar.

Gavin smiled and bent down to pull open the top drawer. Nines kept a copy of the case files on his desk. He had another copy at home. It was almost like a hobby, he set aside time every week to go over the case and scour the clues for any information that hadn’t been picked apart yet. It was carefully held together, the folders of the files were labeled and organized. There was information on the family, on the witnesses, the type of car that drove off with Connor and Colin as well as any lead or clue that they had stumbled on over the years, though each one had gone nowhere.

Gavin tucked the file under his arm and went back to his own desk to lay it out on top of the paperwork he was supposed to be doing. Inside the file was a mess, unlike the carefully labeled folders and the nearly organized desk that contained it all, the papers inside were covered in different shades of highlighter and the margins were so crammed with handwritten notes that Gavin couldn’t even read them. It was the most chaotic he ever saw Nines get, his thoughts scribbled onto the papers in a way that couldn’t be organized or contained. Gavin would never call Nines’ investment into the case an obsession. This had purposed, it had intent, and it was personal.

And Gavin couldn’t read a word of it. Nines had probably done the most work out of everyone in his brothers’ case and all of it was illegibly laid out in front of him. He would need a fresh copy of the case file if he was going to even try and make heads or tails of this thing. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. A clue that maybe Anderson was onto something. A mention of the Eden Club? Its owner? Any connection to the kidnapping of the Allen Twins to the prostitute Anderson met in the basement of a strip club. It was two points of a timeline Gavin really didn’t want to connect, but he was too impatient to keep waiting for DNA to come back.

He pulled out his phone to text Anderson again.

‘Why aren’t you fucking answering me?

‘I need your sober, honest to god confirmation that this is him’

He tossed his phone down into his desk and flipped the file closed before getting up. He needed a fresh one. It was a cold case. Gavin just needed to take a quick walk to the records and request a copy on the case file. He smiled at the woman sitting at the small desk.

“I want the complete file on the Allen Twins Abduction,” Gavin said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, are you going to start doing this too?”

Gavin blinked. “Doing what?”

“I don’t know, whatever you guys do with these things. At least once a week someone requests this file and it's always for something different,” She said quickly. “We have a special version for civilians with only the public details. One guy was making a youtube video and another was sure he could figure it out on his own. Now the full report is for law enforcement and Detective Allen comes down here a lot for a copy, but he never tells me why he wants it.”

“Well, it’s a famous case,” Gavin said. 

“I think it was on Unsolved Mysteries once,” she said.

“I don’t doubt it. Can I please have the file?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Gavin blinked quickly when the woman turned around and stepped into the file room. He could hear the muffled humm of a printer and the sliding bang of file cabinets. He had forgotten how talkative the girl in records was. He knew there had to be a reason he didn’t come down here much.

“You know what I heard?” The woman said when she reemerged with a file in hand. “I heard Captain Allen was in debt to a loan shark, and they took the twins as payment. And since he’s a cop he was able to get it covered up.”

“You and I are both cops. If it’s all a big cover up then I’m sure we would hear something about it,” Gavin said. He plucked the file from her hands, reaching over the desk to do so.

With the new file he hastily left the records room and made his way back to his desk. He had everything from 911 transcripts to investigator notes and police reports. He had never taken a deep look at the files. The only times he had ever looked at it was when Nines had it laid out on their kitchen table and thought he was close to a breakthrough.

There was a lot of information in these files. The case started with a 911 call. The transcripts for Captain Allen calling the emergency number to say someone had taken his kids from his backyard. Gavin could read the panic in the words, the broken sentences, the curse words thrown in every few seconds as he stumbled over what he was trying to say. The next thing in the file was the interview with Nines. ‘Richard Allen, Age 5’ described to investigators how he, Connor, and Collin were playing hide-and-seek. He had climbed up into the tree house and closed his eyes to count to ten. He cheated, peeking out the cutout window to see where his brothers were hiding. Connor was behind a tree near the fence and Colin went behind the shed. A blue car had driven by slowly, gradually rolling to a stop on the street. Richard had pulled back from the window to close his eyes and keep counting.

There were a lot of notes Nines had scribbled onto his copy of the 911 transcript. Occasionally whole excerpts of what his father had said on the phone was circled or highlighted. It was typical of the file in which Nines had commented on almost every single bit of information. Nines had an equal amount of notes on his witness testimony, commenting on his own words as a child, but a post it note was taped down with a car’s make, model, and year listed. It wasn’t much to go on, but he was still only a few pages in.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Hank felt like dying when he woke up in the morning. ‘Morning’ was used loosely since the clock showed less than ten minutes until noon when he finally opened his eyes. He groaned loud enough for Sumo to come trotting into the room and sniff at the blankets curiously. It would be awhile before Hank actually managed to get out of bed. Even longer to drag himself to the bathroom and into the shower. He leaned against the wall under the running water with his eyes closed. His head wouldn’t stop spinning.

He felt a little better after. Everything from last night washed away down the drain and the tension had melted from his shoulders. He brushed his teeth and washed away the sour taste in his mouth. By one o’clock he had a few cups of coffee in him, and he felt almost human again. Sumo had been fed and let outside, mud was tracked in with the snow when he had come back in. Hank would have to mop the kitchen later, but he also still needed to give Sumo a bath, dust the furniture, and pay the mortgage. Hank doubted he would end up doing much more than stare at the mud spots with discomfort. He really needed to deep clean the place, especially now that he had so much free time.

He laid his head in his hands and let out a deep sigh. He felt better, but being sober does put a strain on him. It made his head feel heavy when he didn’t feel the need to fall over and vomit. He didn’t feel physically sick, but there were so many things bouncing around in his head now. He still had the paperwork laid out on his counter with the empty bottle. He didn’t want to open the drawer to put the papers away. What was in that drawer was a few things he couldn’t bear to look at without a few drinks in him. Even remembering the photograph that rested in there with the gun was too painful for him to manage.

Hank stood up and eyeballed the papers. The missing persons poster was faded, but he could easily google and print a new one. This one was given to him by Captain Allen himself, days after his twins disappeared from his backyard. In the deteriorated photos on the paper he could barely make out the details of their faces. The twins in the picture were happy, both grinning from ear to ear with their brown curls pushed back messily. The photos on the poster were in black and white, but he had seen colored pictures of them. Hell, he had seen the twins in person once or twice when he had just graduated from the academy. Even if he hadn’t thought about them in years, except for when he occasionally glanced towards their poster at the permanent place on the station’s bulletin board. Captain Allen, after they were gone for a year and his wife had filed for divorce, had stopped mentioning them at all.

Being sober was too painful, because Hank didn’t like thinking about missing kids. It burned at something deep in his chest that just made him want to drink. He had a pack of beers sitting in the fridge and it wasn’t unusual for him to start this early. There was nothing else for him. He sat alone in this house, watched tv, and tried not to let his mind drift too far because his thoughts only ever went back to Cole. Hank couldn’t do it. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and twisted off the cap. It tumbled to the ground and rolled away.

His phone vibrated loudly on the counter. The screen lit up and showed the message icon attached to an [Unknown Number]. He quickly set the bottle down and tapped the notification. He expected to hear back soon, considering he had finally upheld his end of the agreement. The message was just an address. Hank rolled his eyes at the bluntness of the message. Not even an inquiry to how things went. Not a time to meet or an update on how Connor was. Just an address. Hank went to the door to grab his coat with Sumo trotting along behind him, nose sniffing at his hands. A leash that he hardly touched hung on the hook and Sumo let out a soft, quiet bark when Hank’s hands brushed it. He hadn’t been walking him enough. There were a lot of things Hank didn’t do anymore. He grabbed his coat and slipped through the door. 

It was still cold outside and the car stalled when he turned the key in the ignition. The engine took a minute to roll over, and he worried about just a second that it wouldn’t. The address wasn’t far, but he would rather not waste money on a cab. He pulled out of the driveway and had the address set on his GPS. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his heart pounding in his chest. At this age and the amount he drinks it may as well be a heart attack. There was very little reason for him to leave the house this early. Jimmy’s Bar didn’t open until five o’clock.

The GPS brought him to a pizzeria. It was a small place with a large sign claiming it as the best deep dish in Detroit. It was a big claim. He doubted it was true but it was still a strange place to meet Colin at. All of the tables were full for the lunch rush and the whole restaurant had a constant chatter around. He could see Colin in one of the booths along the walls, his back to the window. He had a slice of deep dish on his plate, slowly cutting it to pieces with a fork and knife.

Seeing him made Hank’s stomach turn in knots. Connor and Colin were identical, but Colin looked more like Richard at first glance. They both had broad shoulders and a softness to their cheeks. They both looked older. Perhaps it had been the whiskey blurring his vision or it could have been the bad lighting of the club but Connor had looked much smaller than Colin did now. He seemed to sense Hank approaching, round brown eyes shooting up to see him and narrowing slightly. That was the only difference between Colin and Richard, the eye color, but the same serious and thoughtful look was there. They had the same hair, neatly combed back with just a few strands falling out of place. The same bit of softness to their cheeks.

“You look tired. Late night?” Colin asked when Hank slid into the booth across from him.

“You could say that,” Hank said. He rubbed his eyes, digging his fingers into them. When he opened them again and looked across the table at Colin, he still looked the same. Still, exactly like Nines. “Connor was there. You were right.”

“Of course I was right,” Colin said.

Hank waited. He watched as Colin cut his pizza, cheese pushing out the side of it and onto the plate before scooping it up and eating it. They were both quiet for a moment and Hank wondered if Colin was going to finish eating before he asked anything about his brother. Hank cleared his throat, causing Colin to look up with a pinched expression and then look down at his watch.

“How did he look?” Colin asked.

“Like shit. He was wearing kinda baggy clothes so it was hard to tell exactly how he looked, but he was definitely on the thinner side,” Hank said. Comparing the twins was alarming and Hank didn’t like being the only one who could do it. The only person who had seen the twins in decades, besides whoever had done this to them, and they looked so drastically different. Identical, but one looked sunken in, sickly, and hollow, and the other had paid Hank a few grand to check in on him.

“In your opinion, did it look like they were feeding him well?” Colin asked and returned his attention to his pizza.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Tonight, I want you to bring him a turkey and cheese sandwich with mayo on wheat bread. He doesn’t like mustard,” Colin said.

Hank nodded. He could definitely bring Connor some food. “I can get him some chips. Cookies? Is he allergic to anything?”

“He just needs the sandwich.”

“He needs a lot more than a sandwich,” Hank said a bit more urgently. His hand tightened to a fist on his leg. “You know, maybe instead of paying me to go check in on him and tell you how he’s doing, you should do something to actually help him.”

“He doesn’t need help,” Colin said.

“You can go get him. If you have the money to give me to check on him then you have the money to go get him yourself,” Hank said. He furrowed his brows and clenched his jaw. His stomach turned tighter in a sick feeling knot. Why wasn’t Colin doing more? He seemed fine. He seemed free enough to go get pizza and meet with Hank, but he just left his brother sitting in that place. “Why don’t you call the police?”

“Lieutenant, I didn’t hire you to ask questions. I pay your bills, your mortgage, and keep you comfortable while you drink away your retirement. All I want in return is for you to go there and report back to me. Your opinions, unless I ask for them, are unnecessary,” Colin said quickly. His eyebrows twitched as his tone lowered.

“Connor isn’t okay there. I just figured, you care about your brother. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have approached me about this. I really want to get your brother out of there,” Hank said.

He didn’t understand Colin. Hank didn’t know what his situation was, because here he was eating pizza and spending money. He was in a nice dress shirt and tie, his blazer taken off and folded neatly on the seat next to him. He looked like a regular office worker on a lunch break. He looked like Richard. And he wasn’t doing anything for Connor. It made no sense to Hank.

“I’ll give you another two grand. You’ll go see Connor and give him a sandwich. While you’re there you can ask him if he wants to leave. Ask him if he’s there willingly. Hopefully you’ll be satisfied with your answers and stop questioning me,” Colin said quickly. 

“I will. Do you want me to tell him that you sent me?” Hank asked.

“Absolutely not,” Colin said.

“Why?”

“Did we not just decide that I’m not paying you to ask me questions?”

“Fine.” Hank leaned back in the booth.

Colin turned his wrist, chewed slowly on a large bite of pizza, and checked his watch. He didn’t say anything, just kept eating. Colin didn’t look up again until his plate was clear. He had taken his time to eat a single slice, delicately slicing it into pieces. He dabbed the sauce and grease from his face with his napkin and folded it as he set it down.

He pulled out his wallet, placing a few twenties on the table and then a roll of bills out towards Hank. The payment was cash. Untamed and untraceable considering what they were doing would be some multilayered illegal activity. Colin was paying Hank to buy a prostitute. Hank was a disgraced ex-police officer with no future, and he wondered if that was why Colin had chosen him. At the station he had very few friends, let alone anyone who would bother listening to him. Hank thought it was a miracle Reed picked up the phone for him at all.

“Tell you what, you can bring Connor the pizza too,” Colin said. 

Hank took the money and tucked it into his coat pocket. Maybe Colin was right. Before this arrangement, he had already drank through the bill money. His retirement fund was drying up fast. He hadn’t cared but at least this gave him a chance to dive deeper into drinking that he wouldn’t care when he would end up on the streets. It was money to get him by. Hank was just desperate enough to agree to do it.

Colin waved over the waitress and requested a to-go box for the pizza.

“You want me to give him the whole thing?” Hank asked.

Colin nodded. “Don’t let him eat it too fast. He’ll make himself sick. In fact, let him have a slice and throw the rest out,” Colin said as he wiped off his hands and started to tidy himself up. He unrolled the sleeves of his white shirt and tugged out the wrinkles. “He should eat the sandwich first though.”

“You have a lot of weird requests for your brother,” Hank said.

“I know what’s best for him,” Colin said.

“Do you?”

Colin narrowed his eyes. “I think you’re asking too many questions again.”

Hank’s mouth snapped shut. Talking to Colin made him feel like he was trying to interrogate a stubborn, smart ass suspect. It made him feel like there was a battle of wills going on when all Hank really wanted to do was help Connor. It would be safe to assume Colin cared if he went through the trouble of checking in on him. Hank wanted to ask what Colin was thinking. He wanted to know where the twins’ lives had been separated down two separate paths and what reasoning was there for him to not want to intervene more. 

Colin stood up from the table without taking the leftovers or giving Hank any further orders regarding his brother. The deep dish was put into a box and the waitress gleefully got the money from the center of the table. She thanked Hank for the hefty tip when he told her to keep all of it, even though Colin was the one to leave without asking for his change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reed: ‘I think you should reach out to your dad... connect with your family... for no reason’  
> Nines: ‘Fuck you’
> 
> Hank: ‘I think you should consider working with the police to help your brother and you know maybe yourself as well’
> 
> Colin: ‘Fuck you’


	3. Volition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a smaller chapter

Hank had a sandwich tucked into his coat pocket the next time he went to the club. It was made exactly how Colin had specified. He had the pizza box in hand as he paid the cover charge to get in. He expected the bouncer to take the pizza at the door, but once he handed the money over he was just given an approving nod. As far as Hank remembered, there had been no rules about outside food, just scars and photographs and condoms.

The low bass of the music vibrated through the floors as he walked in, eyes adjusting to the dark, soft glow of the purple lights. The room was filled with chatter, more occupants in the bar tonight than there had been the day before. Hank held tighter to the pizza box and turned towards the bar. The room was crowded. He could see the dancers in the platform from the corner of his eyes. He was tempted to look over and see if Connor was there. Colin’s words echoed in his mind and made him wonder why he would suggest he ask Connor if he’s there willingly. There were locks on the doors for a reason, Hank guessed, but if they were up on the stage what was stopping them from walking out the front door?

Hank approached the bar, ignoring the three other men sitting and waiting with drinks in their hands. He set the pizza box on the table and nodded to the bartender, the same man from the other night.

“Bourbon,” Hank said calmly. “In a tall, pale glass.”

The bartender offered him a friendly smile. “It’s a popular drink tonight, sir. Perhaps instead of waiting you would like to try something else?”

Hank glanced to the side at the drinks on the table. Two glasses of dark liquor and one glass of clear. Hank didn’t look up to see their faces, he just kept his eyes on the drinks and the hands that held them. At least one person was ahead of Hank to see Connor. Maybe several. He could be waiting here for a while, but he was only here for Connor. Hank wouldn’t be here at all if not to see him.

“I’ll wait,” Hank said.

He sat down and thanked the bartender as he filled Hank’s glass. It would be a long wait here at a bar and Reed had asked for his sober assurances that this really was Connor. The pizza box sat innocently on the bar next to his glass, and he could sense the several sets of eyes that kept glancing over to it. Perhaps there was an unspoken food policy that they were all trying to project in his head, but he wasn’t throwing out the pizza until Connor had a chance to eat it.

It was one of Colin’s rules, and he pays the bills. Give Connor a sandwich and give him the pizza and ask him if he was there because he wanted to be. Hank lifted the glass to his lips and took a small sip. It was good bourbon. It likely was no consolation to Connor that he was commemorated with a fantastic drink. 

“May I have a look, sir?” The bartender said, tapping the top of the pizza box.

Hank gave a single nod. He tipped the glass back and took a larger drink. The bartender slid the box closer and lifted the lid. There was only pizza inside. The cheese had oozed slightly from the sides of the slices and the sauce was sticking to the top of the box until it all cooled and got stuck in place. He hadn’t been particularly gentle with the box on the drive over, but the pizza was still edible.

“It’s only a deep dish,” Hank said.

The bartender smiled. “Excellent choice, sir.”

“I thought so.”

The bartender closed the box and then went to refill Hank’s glass. Everyone seemed more satisfied knowing what was in the box. Perhaps that was the concern, not that Hank was bringing food to his meeting with a prostitute but that they wanted to make sure it was only food. Hank didn’t know what they expected, a bomb or a gun or drugs, but it was just pizza.

“Sir, your room is ready,” The bartender said to one of the other men sitting a few feet away from Hank.

Dark liquor, knocked back and the empty glass left upside down on the table. The man stood up and walked towards the woman waiting for him. The same woman, blue dress and blond hair professionally pulled back. Hank turned back to his own drink. He didn’t know if that man was going to see Connor. He didn’t know if anyone was with Connor right now. He didn’t know what was happening to him, Hank was just left waiting at the bar and had nothing to occupy his time except his drink.

He could go to the stage. Hank could occupy his time watching the dancers in their skimpy outfits, or the ones wearing nothing at all. It had been a while since he had even found anyone interesting. With a quick glance over his shoulder Hank was able to stomp out the idea. He could see them, men and women dancing in a slow rhythm, a casual sway to their hips, as curious buys sat around and watched them. A few of the customers talked to each other, leaned in close and intent on their discussion rather than the strippers. Hank turned back towards his drink.

He knocked it back and let the bartender refill the glass.

The other two men at the bar were called back to their rooms after a while. In no time, other patrons came to take their spots, ordered their drinks, and joined Hank in their waiting game. There were a lot of variations in drink orders, specifying the type of liquor, the glass you want it served in, and if you order it with ice or a chaser. Hank wondered if each order represented a different person.

No one else ordered a bourbon in a tall, pale glass. Some part of Hank hoped that no one else wanted Connor. No one else would come in to buy Connor ever again in a perfect world. Hank really hoped that the ending to all of this was that Connor would be able to go home. Richard would be able to finally rest knowing his brothers are home safe. The decades old mystery would finally be put to rest. He didn’t know how Colin would fit into it. Hank didn’t understand him. He seemed almost normal, not exactly how Hank would imagine someone who had been an abducted child. And he knew Connor was here and didn’t seem upset by it.

The bartender refilled Hank’s glass. He thought about Captain Allen, who still worked in SWAT. The man had been the one to first take Hank out drinking the first time he returned to work after. It was when the pain still felt raw and Laura had been up all night screaming in Cole’s room again, and he had come back to work too soon. Allen had covered round after round that night. He had let Hank bawl his goddamn eyes out and told him that the pain never really went away. It didn’t make him feel better.

He should give Captain Allen a call. Hank hadn’t seen or heard from him since he had gone into early retirement. There was no doubt in his mind that this was Connor. He had seen and spoken to Colin. He had seen Connor in person. Allen’s boys had been missing for decades and it didn’t feel right to Hank to make him wait much longer. Allen had a chance to get his sons back.

The bartender refilled Hank’s glass and quickly he knocked it back. And nodded for it to be filled again.

“Sir, your room is ready.”

Hank smiled and thanked the man, but took the one last drink before stumbling away from the bar. The woman was there to meet him, her arms folded neatly behind her. She glanced down at the pizza in Hank’s hand, the contents slid around in the box as his balance tipped slightly.

“Welcome back. Would you like me to assist you in carrying your things?” She said, a smile blooming on her face.

“I got it,” Hank said.

He followed a step behind her, one hand on the box and the other braced the wall as they slowly took the stairs. He took each step one at a time. The last thing he wanted to do was die by drunkenly stumbling down the stairs before he was able to deliver the pizza to Connor.

“I’m surprised you came back for him. I didn’t think you enjoyed him last time,” she said.

“I said he was perfect,” Hank said.

“You left so quickly, but perhaps you just didn’t need as much time.”

“He was fine. I enjoyed him a lot,” Hank said. The words felt dry in his throat, but at least he didn’t feel like he was going to get sick again.

“We don’t want any of our customers to have a disappointing time. Please do let us know if he fails you at all.”

Hank hummed as they reached the bottom stairs. The basement was still the same. The cement walls trapped in the cold air and his shoes echoed in the hallways as they walked. Hank’s head lulled to the side, not bothering to count the number of doors be walked by. She reminded him of the rules before she turned the deadbolt and opened the door to let Hank inside. He thanked her as he stepped inside and tried not to flinch at the sound of the lock.

The atmosphere of the room was different. The air felt hot, heavy, and humid. Connor was waiting for him on the bed, water dripping from his hair and soaking into the gray fabric of his shorts. This time, Connor didn’t wear a shirt. His skin was still wet and damp and Hank was sure if he went back into the bathroom he would see the little puddles around the shower drain. Connor’s skin was scrubbed bright red.

“Hi. We’re gonna have a good time tonight,” Connor said, his lips pulled back in a tired smile.

“I’m not here for sex. I just want to establish that. I don’t want to have sex so just don’t touch me like that,” Hank said. He didn’t want a repeat of last time, where Connor kept reaching out to him, touching him, and offering himself up until Hank felt sick with himself and had to leave.

“I understand. What would you like me to do for you then?” Connor said.

“I would like you to give me your name. Your actual name, not like a stripper name,” Hank said. He held up the pizza box and Connor’s eyes darted to it and widened. “I brought you something to eat.”

“You can call me whatever you want. I’m here to be who you want me to be.”

“No, I want your real name. Then you can eat,” Hank said.

Colin had asked him if he thought they were feeding Connor well. Hank didn’t think they were and now he knew for certain. Connor was thin, the ridges of his rib cage sticking out under thin, pale skin. Purple and blue bruises peppered Connor’s chest and back in painful looking blotches. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent and his cheeks were sunken in compared to the soft pudginess of his brothers. Connor was starving and Colin asked if they were feeding him here. They weren’t. Hank didn’t need to ask Connor if he was here willingly to know that he wasn’t safe here.

“My name is Connor,” the boy said, only confirming what Hank already knew.

He smiled, nodding approvingly, and stumbled further into the room to hand Connor the pizza box. He was surprised by how quickly Connor’s hands darted out to snatch the box and set it on his lap. He smiled. Connor’s smile up to this point had been stiff and fake, an overly practiced expression. This one stretched wide and crinkled the edges of his eyes as he flipped open the top of the pizza box. It was more of a mess than it had been earlier. A few slices had flipped over and spilled the sauce across the box.

“Thank you!” Connor said quickly, his fingers darting into the box to peel the cold slices up from the cardboard.

“I want you to call me Hank. That’s my name.”

“Yes, Hank.”

Connor started eating. The pizza was coming apart in his hands, no doubt due to Hank’s inability to hold the box steady as he climbed down the stairs. Still, Connor all but shoved the pizza in his face. He didn’t stop after one piece and Hank wasn’t going to stop him. Instead, Hank moved about the room. He saw the puddles around the shower drain in the bathroom. Connor was scrubbed clean between customers it seemed, hard enough to leave his skin red and raw.

Hank nearly ran into Connor’s dresser as he walked. His balance was skewed, and he nearly tripped on his own feet, his hand braced against the dresser for support. It was strange that there was a dresser in here. Hank pulled open a drawer and frowned at the neat stacks of folded clothes. Grey sweatpants, balled up socks, and white t-shirts. The drawer underneath it was full of clothes as well, Hank could see the bright colors and sparkly sequins. Leather and satin and some fuzzy fabric that Hank thought looked soft. He quickly closed the drawer again. He crouched down to open the bottom drawer, his knees popping as they bent.

The last drawer was full of toiletries. Half empty bottles of shampoo and conditioner, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and mouthwash. There was scented lotion. Bottles of cologne and perfume. Hank turned his head to look back at Connor, who was chewing slowly and watching Hank go through his things. Hank eyed the bedside table and its single drawer curiously.

“I brought you a sandwich as well,” Hank said, pulled the Ziploc bag from his coat pocket, and sat it down on the dresser.

“Thank you, Hank.”

“For later if you get hungry again,” Hank said. He hadn’t followed Colin’s rules. He had told Hank that Connor should eat the sandwich first and then one slice of pizza. Right now those rules felt cruel. Connor was slumped over, his body bent protectively around the pizza box as if he subconsciously expected Hank to snatch it away and throw it out. Just like Colin had instructed Hank to do.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Hank asked quickly.

“You want to go upstairs to watch me dance?” Connor asked, cheeks slightly smeared with the pizza sauce. Hank hadn’t thought to bring napkins.

“No. I mean like, go outside and go somewhere else,” Hank said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and felt around until he found the travel sized pack of tissues and quickly handed it over. “There’s this nice quiet bar I like. We could go to the park. Get some fresh air.”

“Is it nice outside?” Connor asked. He tugged out the tissues and quickly started to wipe at his face.

“It’s cold. It’s the middle of the night and it was snowing earlier. I can’t drive though, but I can call us a cab,” Hank said.

“It’ll be dark outside,” Connor said.

Hank nodded. “Yeah. But you can leave this place whenever you want though, right?”

“I don’t think tonight would be good, Hank. I can’t leave with you right now, you’ll have to discuss it with the manager and pay an appropriate fee,” Connor said flatly.

“Okay, fine. I gotta negotiate with someone else to take you somewhere. But what if we go upstairs? Can you just walk out the fucking door and go wherever you want?” Hank said. It was by some miracle he didn’t feel as sick as he had last time. Tonight he just felt tired and angry.

Connor blinked. “I don’t want to.”

“Do you live here? Like when was the last time you went outside?”

“I am here of my own free will and volition,” Connor said.

Hank wanted to shake him. Connor was staring at him with large, round eyes. The pizza box now sat empty, still held protectively on his lap. His pale skin was purpled and bruised, his bones curving himself inward. Connor looked like he was wasting away and his voice was so flat when he said those words.

“What?” Hank said.

“I’m here of my own free will and volition.”

It was oddest thing to come out of Connor’s mouth in this situation. Hank knew what had happened to Connor. He was kidnapped as a child, he was starved, and he was beaten and now he was here and said he was here willingly. It was a lie. Connor’s eyes had dropped back down to the pizza box and tried to peel at the cold cheese sticking to the cardboard and shoving the bits into his mouth, sucking the sauce and grease from his fingers.

“Can I have the sandwich please?” Connor said.

“The sandwich?” Hank repeated.

“Please.”

Hank turned to look at the sandwich sitting on the dresser. It was still cold, but the mayonnaise likely wouldn’t keep for long. Still, Hank didn’t know when the next time Connor would be given food.

“Maybe you should save it for later,” Hank said.

“You’re right, Hank. I should save it for later,” Connor said. He went back to rubbing his finger in the sauce stain on the cardboard and sucking it into his mouth. There wasn’t any sauce left, just the imprint of it on the box.

Hank had to close his eyes and lean his arm against the dresser. Connor was disorienting, speaking to him made Hank’s. He had drank more than last time, and he had far less on his stomach. Breakfast this morning. He had a few sodas in the car. He had too much to drink and talking to Connor was confusing. Nothing the kid said made sense, and he wished he was sober, so he could figure it out. Something was wrong. This whole thing was very wrong.

“Why are you here?” Connor asked.

“What?” Hank said. He pinched his nose between his fingers.

“You’re here with me for a reason. It would be easier to make you happy if I knew what you wanted me to do,” Connor said.

“I don’t want you to do anything,” Hank said.

“If that was true then you wouldn’t have come here and paid for me. You must want something from me.”

“I just want you to eat. And to give me that box,” Hank said, and he held his hand out. There was nothing left on it and Connor just continued to pick at it. He grabbed the sandwich and tossed it to Connor. He would bring back more food.

“Thank you, Hank.”

Connor quickly ripped open the Ziploc bag and pulled the sandwich out. The boy was famished. Hank would bring more food tomorrow, but he knew that soon he would have to get Connor out of here. He couldn’t keep doing this, even if Colin was paying him to.

“I want you to close your eyes,” Hank said quickly.

Immediately, Connor’s eyes fluttered closed. “Like this?”

“Yes. Don’t look. I’ll be mad if you look,” Hank said. He pulled his phone from his pocket.

“If I keep my eyes closed, will you stay the whole hour?” Connor asked.

Hank opened the camera app, pointing it at Connor. With his eyes closed his features were still smooth enough to see clearly. Hank took a few stumbling steps to the side and got a second picture at a different angle. He sent them both immediately to Reed. He wasn’t going to sit around and wait for DNA results to tell him what Hank already knew as fact. When he was done he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“Okay, you can open your eyes again,” Hank said.

Connor smiled and resumed eating the sandwich. There was a rule against photography and Hank was certain Connor would rat him out for taking pictures. He seemed just brainwashed enough to do it. Connor ate quickly, but he blinked slowly, his eyes seemed heavy. His face and chest was still bright red. It was too warm in here and Hank felt drunk enough that it made him want to just go to sleep. Perhaps Connor was tired too.

“After this, you can take a nap,” Hank said.

Connor looked up at him again. “You’ll stay the whole hour.”

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

“Do you want to lay on the bed with me?” Connor asked as he finished the last of the sandwich. He ate it in fast, large bites.

“No, I don’t.”

To make a point of it, Hank sat down right where he sat. He leaned his back against the dresser and crossed his hands on his lap. His own eyes were heavy, and he leaned his head against the wood. Connor set his trash down on the nightstand and laid back against the bed. There was a lot of tension in Connor’s body, he wouldn’t relax against the cushions, and he wouldn’t crawl under the blankets. He looked uncomfortable and Hank wished he didn’t live in this room. He doubted Connor was ever able to relax down here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a shorter chapter but please comment
> 
> Please please please let me know what you think


	4. Doubt

Gavin had studied the pictures Anderson had sent, the boy sitting on the bed, no shirt, and eyes closed. It looked like Nines. The hair looked like Nines, the face looked like Nines, the soft wrinkles of his forehead and under his eyes all looked like Nines. He could clearly see how Anderson had believed so fully and so quickly that this was Connor.

As soon as he got the photos he felt like he had the same level of certainty that Anderson had. It was Nines’ face, it was his features, but the rush of relief and excitement that coursed through him was quickly settled. The boy in the photograph didn’t look like the twenty-seven-year-old everyone had been looking for. Gavin saw this picture and thought that this was a teenager. He looked so small. His body was lean, thin, and bony. His skin pale, with dark blotches of bruises. Gavin sat at his kitchen table, the photos open on his phone. He had the case file open in front of him, each copy he had his hands on. He had grabbed Nines’ photos. He had the frames up on the walls of him and his brothers. Their childhood photographs. Three boys all grinning from ear to ear, dragging each other by the hand.

Half the time Gavin didn’t even know which brother was which in the photos. The only difference between the three of them in childhood was that Nines had blue eyes. In the photos that Anderson sent, Connor’s eyes were closed. It looked almost exactly like some of the photos of Nines as a teenager. Halfway through a growth spurt so his arms and legs were long and thin. Still, some time before his muscle filled in and his shoulders widened. It was unnerving that Connor, who was the older brother, looked small and lean compared to Nines.

It had kept him up. He laid awake and stared at Nines as he slept, drooling into his pillow. The eyes closed and a peaceful expression were still visible in the low light. Gavin’s eyes had adjusted during the night, and he could just see Nines inches away, sleeping soundly, but he kept thinking back in the photos. 

It was hard not to think about them when he had to look at Nines. The photos were so strikingly familiar. Whoever this was a photograph of, whether it was Connor or not, was strikingly similar to Nines. With his eyes closed and expression relaxed. The same soft curl that fell slightly forward. Similar spots of freckles. How could someone look so similar and not be family? Gavin slipped out of bed, his phone clenched tightly in his hand, and quietly pulled the bedroom door shut behind him.

All of the files on the case were tucked away in the hall closet. They were pulled out every few days by Nines to go over it again. Gavin had never sat in on the private investigation. He never asked any questions about what Nines was looking into, but he knew it was about his brothers. Gavin had gotten used to never talking about them, waiting for Nines to bring it up, but he never did. Not yet.

It was something Gavin had always known about. He met Nines at the academy amid a whirlwind of rumors. He didn’t remember most of them, but every single cop on the force had a secret idea about what had happened. They were a cop's kids after all, it was an unsolved case, and the mystery of it all excited people. They wanted to know what had happened to Captain Allen’s twin boys, he had a few whispers of them buried in the backyard or dumped in the river. Gavin knew about all of this before he had even met Nines, and yet he never thought to ask the man himself about what he thought had happened to his brothers.

Clearly Nines had put a lot of thought into it. He had several thick stacks of folders and papers. A few thick packets were tied together in a stack and marked in red marker “NOWHERE” on the sides of the file. Gavin sat them on the ground at his feet and instead he focused on the loose files. The ones with papers slipping out the sides and that he had seen Nines look through the most recently.

He didn’t know why he was doing this. He had never bothered and there was no guarantee the boy in the pictures was Connor. A brown haired man wasn’t an uncommon sight. Did Gavin really want to get into all of this when he wasn’t even sure this was real.

He laid some of the papers out. The photos stared up at him, all printed on cheap copy paper. The same photos they had sitting in frames around the apartment or laid out in photo albums. 

Gavin pulled out his phone. It was still early, but he had been staring at pictures, articles, and reports until his eyes started to burn. He was hoping to call the lab. It had been two days, and he had insisted that it was vital to an important case that he get the results. He knew he would have to tell Nines about his brothers as soon as he was sure. He was eager to get the conversation out of the way, but he also wanted the relief of not having to go through with it just in case this wasn’t Connor.

He left a message with the lab techs, reminding them of the urgency in which he needed the results. The photos all stared at him as he called. They stared at him as he drifted back and forth between believing and denying that this was Nines’ brother. They stared at him as he went through report after report that all ended with the continued disappearance of Connor and Colin Allen.

“You’re up early,” Nines said.

Gavin looked up, turned his head, and sat his phone down on the table with a smile. Nines was groggy in the morning, especially on his day off. His hair stuck up on one side, his lips dry from snoring and drooling into his pillow. His basketball shorts were pulled nearly sideways on his hips and his shirt wrinkled beyond saving.

“Good morning. I made some coffee if you would like to have breakfast with me,” Gavin said. He gestured to the seat next to him at the table. He didn’t bother hiding the files open around him just like he didn’t tell Nines that he had slipped out of bed in the middle of the night to go over it all again.

Gavin felt hands squeeze his shoulders before slowly sliding down the front of his chest. Lips pressed against Gavin’s cheek and left soft pecks down his jawline. It was affectionate. Nines was always touchy in the morning. His hands always grasped at Gavin’s clothes or hair. Nines was not a morning person, which surprised him the most when they first spent the night together. It always took Nines a good hour to fully wake up.

“You’re tense,” Nines said in his ear. Then he quickly pulled back. All touch of him vanished from Gavin’s body, and he heard the heavy step back. 

Gavin turned to face him and worry had been bubbling in his stomach all night. He saw the confusion in Nines’ eyes as he looked over the files that Gavin had left on display on the table. It wasn’t as welcoming as waking up to breakfast. He probably should have cleaned up before Nines had woken up. He should ease into the conversation better than he was. It was so complicated and family was the most complex and stress inducing subject Nines had to talk about.

“You doing some homework?” Nines asked.

“I couldn't sleep, so I thought I would take a look at your case,” Gavin said.

“What’s with all of this new interest in my family?” Nines sat down in the seat next to him.

He smiled. Nines reached out and pulled a few of the papers closer to him, all of them were scribbled in his handwriting. Gavin wasn’t sure if this was an invasion of privacy or not. It felt like it. All of Nines’ inner thoughts and ideas and theories were laid out on paper and Gavin was snooping through it. This wasn’t just a case Nines had asked for help on. This wasn’t work. Gavin hoped he hadn’t crossed a line into something he had no business in. Maybe this wasn’t something Nines was ready to share with him.

“It’s not a new interest. I’ve always been interested.”

Nines scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yesterday you wanted to have my dad over for dinner and now I catch you reading my brothers’ case. Suspicious.”

“It’s not suspicious. Your family is important to me,” Gavin said.

“Why?”

“What?” Gavin wrinkled his nose at Nines’ question.

He was met with a smile. A wide, crooked grin as Nines leaned across their kitchen table towards him. His hand settled on Gavin’s knee, but he didn’t elaborate on his question of why. He could tell Nines about what Anderson found. He could bring up the DNA test that hadn’t come back yet or the photographs that look exactly like Nines but younger and sadder. The pictures were on his phone. Nines could see it for himself and make his own conclusions. He was the one who had been looking for them all these years. He was the one who knew what to look for.

Nines would be excited. Just based on the amount of notes he had taken on his various copies of the case files and the various theories that he had crafted along the margins, Nines would latch onto this lead until it came up a dead end. Gavin wanted to make Nines happy. This was a decades old wound that could finally start to heal if this was right. Or it could destroy him. The pictures were convincing, but what if it was a coincidence. There were lookalikes all the time. Nines didn’t have an entirely unique look. This could tear the wound open again. This would just be another file marked ‘NOWHERE’ on the front and a lack of closure.

“If you’re asking why I care about your family now, which is a fucking dumb ass question, it’s because I have a lifelong dream to solve this case.”

“We have so much in common,” Nines said.

“Yeah, I plan to write a true crime novel, become famous, and run off with a French model named Philip,” Gavin said quickly. He had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. “You’ll be devastated.”

“I’ll hunt you down,” Nines said with a nod.

Gavin laughed. “What kind of stupid question is that? Of course, I care about your family.”

Nines hadn’t laughed back. He smiled wide and squeezed Gavin’s knee, but leaned back slightly. “I know you do,” Nines said. He gestured with his free hand over the files still sprawled out on the table between them. “This is different though. It’s a lot of weird and personal stuff. It can be a lot.”

“It’s important to you,” Gavin said.

Nines nodded. He was still smiling, his eyebrows twitched, and he let go of Gavin’s knee. “It’s very important to me. These are my brothers, I’ve been trying to figure out what happened to them since I was five years old. It can be a bit much to some people because it’s really serious.”

“I’ll take it seriously,” Gavin said as he leaned forward to lay his hand over Nines’.

“I know,” He said quickly, grasping at it. “I know you will.”

There was something about it. Some sort of invisible barrier that Gavin couldn’t seem to get across. Nines hand gripped Gavin’s hard enough for the bones to grind together, but he didn’t pull back. He leaned closer still. This wasn’t something they had talked about. Gavin never asked. Nines brought it up sometimes in passing, but they never discussed it.

“Maybe,” Gavin said, trying to break the silence before it went on for too long. “I could help. It could be something we work on together.”

“If you’re sure you’ll be fine with all of this, I can go over it with you,” Nines said.

His eyebrows furrowed, the crease deepened between them. His nose twitched and tapped one of the papers in front of him. Gavin’s eyes settled on the file, all the notes he had compiled. It was a significant thing for him. Gavin hoped he wasn’t asking for too much. He didn’t want to be the one pushing for too much too fast.

“I’m sure,” Gavin said.

“Okay. Let me know if it freaks you out.”

Gavin smiled. He didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to joke about it. He wanted to lighten the mood and make Nines smile again. This was probably the reason Nines was hesitant to share this. He didn’t want to disappoint. If Anderson was right then he would have to be here for Nines.

“Okay then. I’ll start from the beginning. It’s the best way to break the case down to you if I tell you about the kidnapping. Is that okay?” Nines asked.

Gavin nodded. “Tell me whatever you can.” He said.

“It was twenty-one years ago. I was five, Connor and Colin were about to turn seven. We were in the backyard,” Nines said. He set the scene, pulling a few photos from the stack of papers. Crime scene photos from behind the house, the street that ran alongside the fence, and another photo of the brothers all side by side. “We were playing hide-and-seek. I was it, so I had to go up into the tree house to count because the tree house was off limits to hiding. Are you following okay?”

“Playing in the backyard, the tree house was off limits, I got it,” Gavin said with a nod. He had already read about the actual kidnapping and the first few dead end leads they had when he picked up the police file. Still, he was talking to the only actual detective trying to work the case these days, so he hung on every word.

“I cheated. I was five, so I cheated and I peeked out the tree house window to see where they were hiding,” Nines said. He hadn’t let go of Gavin’s hand, but his eyes had drifted to the papers laid out in front of them. He starts shuffling through some of them, even flipping open a small folder Gavin had yet to touch. Nines kept talking. “A blue Honda drove slowly down the street. It was heading down this street here. I could see the make and model on the back.”

Nines pointed at a photo of the road, the vantage point was from the tree house. It was a very specific photo to describe the scene Nines was laying out. His finger moved up the photo to indicate the direction, the window from the tree house and the layout of the backyard would have shown the back of the car as it drove by the house.

“I only looked at it for a moment, I remember thinking how weird it was that someone was here. They were going so slowly that it looked like they were pulling over. I should have kept watching, but I was halfway through counting my brothers had finished hiding. I only looked away for a few seconds, but after that they were gone,” Nines said. He spoke slowly, but his voice remained steady. His tone never once stumbled as he described the last time he saw his brothers.

“Are you okay?” Gavin asked.

“Don’t worry, I’ve thought about it a lot,” Nines said with a soft smile and a quick squeeze to his hand.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to,” Gavin said quickly.

“I promise I will never do anything that’s too much for me. If you’re okay with this, I’m okay talking about it,” Nines said.

Gavin hoped so. He never talked about anything that has hurt or upset him over the years. He couldn’t imagine being in his position and never getting closure from it. There was no way he could talk about it the way Nines was, calm and focused as if it was his job.

“It’s fine. Keep going,” Gavin said.

“Okay. So my brothers were gone after that. I came down from the tree house and pretended I didn’t know where they were hiding. I looked in the wrong places,” Nines said slowly. The frustrated wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows and his eyes lingered on the photographs. “Then I looked in the right places, but they weren’t hiding there anymore. At first, I thought that maybe they knew I cheated and had changed hiding spots when I wasn’t looking.”

He leaned forward to brace his elbows on their table, Nines’ hand cupped in both of his. Gavin rubbed his thumbs over his knuckles. He didn’t know what to say to give him any sort of comfort considering he had been living with this kind of hurt for so long. Gavin tried to press the tension out of him by rubbing small circles into his hand. He wanted so badly to tell Nines about who Anderson found. The man had the same nose, the same lips, and same shape of his chin. It could all just be a coincidence. Just someone with brown hair and similar features and Nines would be heartbroken about it all over again.

“I looked for a while before going inside to look. By the time I told dad I couldn’t find them it was already too late. They were long gone. Never to be seen or heard from again,” Nines said slowly. He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his seat. His hands pulled out of Gavin’s and let them rest on his lap.

Nines was really laying it all out and Gavin felt so horribly unprepared. They had never discussed something this important before, not even the ‘move in together’ talk felt like it had this much weight. Gavin felt the need to bend over and rest his head on the table. Exhaustion weighed heavily in his bones. He wanted to tell Nines everything and pass the burden onto him. He was more used to carrying it.

“Are you freaked out yet?” Nines asked.

“I’m not freaked out. This is all stuff I was aware of, even though we never talked about it. I just think it’s, I don’t know, kinda sad,” Gavin said.

Nines nodded. “Yeah, it’s really sad. Dad tore apart the house and the backyard looking for him, screaming at the top of his lungs, but they were gone. I had given them plenty of time to get away.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.”

Gavin looked Nines up and down, his body language closed off and stiff, his eyes not once looking up from the files. His attention was always on the case being laid out before him. Nines had leaned forward to hover over the papers. Gavin was just observing, there was a difference between interviewing someone as a witness to a crime and studying their notes as a fellow investigator. Nines had an emotional stake in the case and it worried Gavin about just how guilty he might be feeling about the whole thing. What would he do with the pictures Anderson had sent? The DNA test could still come back negative. It could just be a coincidence. Nines was handsome, but his features weren’t exactly unique.

“What?” Nines said, his eyes narrowing on Gavin.

“Nothing.”

“You're staring at me.”

“It’s just a lot to think about,” Gavin said. He looked down at the files as well, the sheer amount of paperwork collected for the case. “I get why the case is so important to you. I couldn’t go through something like that and then never get any answers on it.”

“I’m the only one still looking for them. Everyone else thinks they’re dead, and yeah they probably are, but they don’t deserve an ending like that. And on the off chance they’re alive I don’t want to give up and leave them wherever they are,” Nines said.

“You’re the one who investigated this the most. Do you think there’s a chance they're still alive?” Gavin asked.

Nines smiled. “It’s possible. I sometimes hope they were kidnapped by some deranged, but caring person who wanted kids so bad they just stole a couple. Maybe they grew up being loved, and they’re happy, but don’t know who they are. It’s not likely but I think about it sometimes. They're most likely dead though.”

“What does the evidence tell you? You’re the one who has studied this case front too back. Judging by everything you know, how likely do you think it is they are still alive?” Gavin said quickly. His heart was beating fast, and he could feel it through his chest. He could feel it pounding in his bones. He was letting himself get worked up over nothing. Nerves made Gavin clench his hands into fists as Nines narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose.

“I would be willing to bet my life on it,” Nines said firmly. He crossed his arms. “Based on the evidence. I’m going to find out what happened to them regardless, but I feel pretty good about them being alive.”

“So what would you do if you saw them again, and they were both perfectly okay. Loved and cared for like you hoped?” Gavin asked.

The tension dripped from Nines again as he smiled. “God, it’s so hard to guess. Maybe we would sit down for coffee. We could talk about how our lives had been. It would be a shock for them, finding out they’re missing persons.”

“We could help them,” Gavin said with a nod. “And what if we find them, and they’re not okay.”

Nines looked at him, the smile slipping away as he glanced back down at the police reports and printed copies of his childhood photos. “I know what sort of awful things could have happened to them. When we find them, if they aren’t okay, then I’ll probably help them. With anything and everything they need to be okay. If they need me, I’m going to do anything for them.”

It was an easy thing to understand. If Nines was going to work this hard trying to find out what happened to them then of course he would help them with whatever they needed. If Anderson was right, and he had found Connor, then Gavin could anticipate a long and emotionally taxing transition. Connor would need a lot of support and everything would change for Nines and Gavin.

He hardly had to give it a thought.

“I would help too, you know. I meant it when I said I cared about your family. And if your brothers need some help then I would be there to help support you,” Gavin said. He was worried what the DNA tests would show, he was scared of everything changing if they were brothers, and he was sad for the years of investigating and searching for two boys who might never be found if they weren’t.

“You mean that?” Nines asked.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

Nines rubbed his hand over his face and his fingers pressed hard into his eyes. Gavin wanted to reach out and comfort him, it was still so early in the morning and Nines always loved to be touched when he was sleepy. This made things so heavy between them. It added a weight to their morning and it probably wasn’t the tone Nines wanted to be set for his day off. Gavin reached out and carefully wrapped his fingers around Nines’ hand to pull it away from his face.

He kept his touch light in case Nines wanted to pull away. There had been an emotional back and forth going on between them this entire conversation. It was hard to tell where Nines felt about the whole thing that had happened between them, but Gavin wanted to support him. If this was real then Nines would need his help.

“Thank you,” Nines said, and he squeezed Gavin’s hand tightly. “I think this is the first time we’ve ever had such a serious conversation and I’m really glad we were able to talk about my brothers. This is really important to me.”

Gavin kept reaching out for Nines. They hadn’t been together long and everything still felt new and fragile around each other sometimes. Gavin knew he wanted this to last, but something was gnawing at the pit of his stomach at the thought of this conversation where Gavin tells him that he found his brothers. He almost wished the tests came back negative just to avoid anything changing. Guilt curled in his stomach.

“I called off today since I couldn’t sleep,” Gavin said softly.

“What kept you up?” Nines asked.

Gavin shrugged, smiling as Nines’ hands reached up to cup his face. It was a soft touch. Gentle and intimate and Gavin leaned against it. He let his eyes fall closed and embraced the comfort of the hands on his skin. It was just the two of them right now, even with the discussion and existence or Nines’ brothers looming over them, it was nice being together. Just the two of them.

“The case I’m working on,” Gavin said.

“Wanna tell me about it? I think both of us could use a fresh set of eyes,” Nines offered.

“It’s kinda a lot, you sure you won’t freak out?” Gavin said. He meant it as a joke, but it tugged inside of his chest.

“I think I can handle it.”

Gavin nodded. He hoped so. “Remember Hank Anderson?”

“Lieutenant Anderson. I do,” Nines said.

“Yeah well he stumbled upon a strip club,” Gavin said.

Nines scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Of course he did!” He laughed, shoulders shaking slightly. “What does that have to do with your case.”

“Have you ever heard of the Eden Club?” Gavin asked.

“No.”

That saved Gavin time, he wouldn’t have to scour the case files for any mention of it. Nines would know if it was there. That means he had to be the one to explain what that place was. He hoped this wasn’t Connor.

“Okay. Well, Anderson thinks they have a bunch of people held captive in the basement that are being sold by the hour,” Gavin said.

Nines’ eyes widened slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah, but everything he tells me is just what he witnessed, and he’s shitfaced every other day, so I don’t know how much he’s telling me is worth believing,” Gavin said.

“Lieutenant Anderson was a good cop who took his job seriously before Cole died. Given how serious the claim is and what might be at stake, I would take his word for it,” Nines said, nodding his head as he spoke. “If he’s wrong, then you wasted your time. If he’s right, then there are people who need help.”

“I should go check it out myself, talk to his source, right?” Gavin said, mostly to himself.

“I could come with you,” Nines said.

“Maybe,” Gavin said.

He didn’t think he would want Nines there. Based on the pictures and the disgusted way Anderson had talked about that place. Gavin wasn’t sure he wanted Nines to see his brother like that, still inside that place. Either way, Nines was right. If this place really was as bad as Anderson said it was then the people there deserved to be helped.

He wanted to show Nines the picture without saying anything. Without context. Would any explanation. Would Nines see what Anderson saw and what was keeping Gavin up at night? He wanted to see if Nines would actually recognize his brother, or if Nines would see a stranger. Maybe they didn’t look as similar as Gavin thought. He was tired and Anderson was a drunk so there was a chance this was all blown out of proportion.

His phone buzzed loudly on the table, vibrating next to their hands and causing them both to look over. The caller ID displayed the number that Gavin had dialed repeatedly over the past couple of days and impatiently demanded results. Now they were calling him. They must have seen the messages he had left and understood the urgency of it. Gavin grabbed his phone, immediately hoped to his feet, and backed away from Nines towards the front door.

“I have to take this. It’s important,” Gavin said. An apology was on the tip of his tongue, but he pushed out the door. He shut the door too quickly and felt the wall shake after he used a bit too much force. He flinched and ducked his head in embarrassment, but quickly answered the call. His hands were shaking when he held the phone to his ear and answered. “Detective Reed.”

“Hey, Detective Reed, I’m calling regarding the results of a sibling test on two unidentified subjects. I looked at the hair you wanted me check out so you can relax now,” The lab tech said as soon as the call connected.

Gavin tensed. His hand tightened around his phone as his whole body stiffened. He hoped it wasn’t Connor. God he hoped the person in the picture wasn’t Nines’ brother. Explaining the Eden Club would go a lot easier if Connor wasn’t stuck in there.

“Tell me the results.” Gavin tried to keep his voice steady, and he breathed in through his nose.

“Okay fine. After testing the two samples of hair provided, we were able to determine an over 97% probability that the two individuals have the same biological mother and father,” The lab tech said calmly, her tone a bit more professional. “So, yes, the two subjects are full siblings. I hope this helps the case you were so eager about.”

He closed his eyes and tried to keep his breathing slow. Something twisted painfully in his stomach, and he wanted to throw his phone against then floor. He wanted to call her an idiot and to run the test again, but he bit his tongue and held it in. He hung up without asking any questions about the testing or results. Normally, in a teal investigation, the DNA would fit the case. In a real case he would need a warrant to even collect the hair in the first place.

Gavin turned and faced the door. He gripped his phone tightly in hand and took a step back from their apartment. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to deal with this situation because a part of him had really been hoping that this wasn’t Connor. He hoped he wouldn’t have to have another difficult conversation. It all felt like a dream. When they first met of course Gavin knew about Nines’ brothers, but no one on Earth ever thought they would be found alive. No one except Nines.

He quickly texted Anderson, eyes lingering on the photos that the man had sent. The text was urgent and short.

‘Come to my place ASAP’

He needed Anderson here. Anderson had way more answers than Gavin did. He knew more about what was happening, had seen both of the twins with his own two eyes. Anderson would be able to answer the many questions Nines would have. Gavin dug the heels of his hands into his eyes hard enough for him to see static.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin: “hey you know how Ive never asked about your brothers? I wanna know now”
> 
> Nines: “why?”
> 
> Gavin: “👀👀👀 no reason”
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented so far. Please please tell me what you think


	5. Distance and DNA

_‘I’m on my way’_

Gavin waited until he got a response from Anderson before he went back into the apartment. He had to know that Anderson was on his way before he even made a move to go inside. It would be impossible to look Nines in the eye and not have all the answers. He kept staring at his phone because there, in Anderson’s messages, were the photos. There was proof now. Actual, solid DNA evidence that told him this was Nines’ brother. That made the kid in the pictures twenty seven, but the lighting in the room through long shadows showed every ridge of Connor’s ribs.

Starved, Anderson had said. Probably had been starving for a long time in order to stay that small and thin. Gavin could make out some purple blotches of skin that Anderson would be better able to explain. There was also the matter of Colin. They didn’t have any samples of him to test but Gavin was convinced enough at this point that Anderson had found the twins, but that didn’t mean he knew how Colin fit into it. Anderson hadn’t explained as much about him as he had about Connor. The twins had always been one in the same whenever Reed heard about them. At work, there was the occasional whispered rumor about the twins. The police files always mentioned Connor and Colin as a unit. Not two separate missing persons, but one. A single case.

He should go to the club and talk to Connor himself. He should ask Connor about his brothers, about his life, and about why he was there. He could tell Connor about Nines and ask if he wanted to get out of there to see him. There had to be something Gavin could do besides sit here and wait for Anderson to lay out the details. They had no plan after that. Gavin didn’t know if the twins actually needed saving. The photos had him concerned because by the looks of it Connor is being mistreated. He needed serious help. There was no way Gavin could go in that apartment and tell Nines what he had learned and keep his life exactly the same. He had already agreed to help Nines if his brothers were ever found, the open declaration that they were most likely dead but were going on the assumption and evidently possibility that they were alive. And it turned out they were.

He felt like an idiot as he practically spun in slow circles in the hallway outside his apartment. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, but the thoughts kept bouncing around in his head. The anxiety built up inside of his chest until his breathing had calmed down. Gavin had done this before. He had talked to victims’ families. He had given them good news and bad news and right now Gavin wasn’t sure if it was one or the other. No, it was definitely good news. It would be closure. Nines wouldn’t spend the rest of his life wondering but he had to deal with the burden of knowing.

Gavin had to tell him. He took a deep breath and moved towards his door. His hand curled around the doorknob and sucked in a shaky breath. He was tired. The lack of sleep was starting to weigh heavy on his body, the weight on his shoulders made his body slump forward. Gavin leaned his head against the door and closed his eyes as he kept his breathing slow and in control. He waited only a moment more before he turned the knob and leaned forward to walk into the living room.

“Hey, I was worried you had gotten lost,” Nines said, still sitting in the same spot at the table. He looked rumpled, his hair still stuck at odd angles from where his head was smashed against the pillow. His clothes were wrinkled horribly. The closer Gavin came the more he could see the dozen signs of sleep that would linger for a while. Nines still had a bit of droppiness in his tired eyes.

“Sorry, it was an important call,” Gavin said. He should have waited until Anderson arrived. Anderson would be able to field whatever Nines had questions on. Anderson would be able to tell Nines how his brothers are. This was one of the few important and meaningful things they had opened their relationship up to and Gavin wondered if maybe they weren’t ready for something this big. Maybe they weren’t ready for something this heavy to be hanging over them. Gavin didn’t want to fuck this up after he promised he would be there to help.

“Did something happen?” Nines asked, his smile slipped away.

“It was just the DNA lab,” Gavin said.

Nines nodded and said “Is it for your case?”

“Yeah,” Gavin said.

His eyes drifted down to the table where Nines had reorganized the sprawling mess of paperwork that Gavin had laid out. A three by three grid of evidence, set up as if Nines was getting ready to present the case to him in a well thought out and carefully planned explanation of the case. That probably was what Nines had done, he wanted to continue talking about the case.

“It must be a breakthrough if it has you speechless like this,” Nines said. His smile was back, soft and warm. He gestured to the seat at the table that Gavin had vacated earlier. “Do you want to sit down and tell me about it? Maybe I can help by offering a fresh set of eyes.”

Gavin took a deep breath. He had to wait for Anderson. He had been waiting to tell Nines for days until the DNA results came back. Nines had been waiting decades to learn the truth, he could wait a half an hour more. Gavin’s mouth didn’t seem to agree as he said, “I stole some of your hair from your comb.”

The smile disappeared off of Nines face again, his expression going back and forth. “You did what?” He asked for clarification, eyes eyebrows drawn together in frustration, the familiar wrinkle appeared.

“A couple days ago I took some hair from your comb to have it tested with some hair Anderson got from that club I told you about,” Gavin said slowly. His hands curled into tight fists. Every muscle in his body was tense. He kept his eyes on the papers. “He found someone who looked just like you and so we compared your DNA. Like, he’s your spitting image.”

“What does that mean? You said ‘He’s my spitting image’ but that doesn’t really mean anything,” Nines said quickly.

“The DNA came back that you guys are related. Same mother and father. Brothers,” Gavin said. The words were crawling out slowly, one by one, and he couldn’t stop them. They wanted Nines to hear. “I wanted to be absolutely sure before I told you.”

“You wanted to be _sure_ ,” Nines repeated. He turned, fully facing the papers he had stacked and waiting in front of him. “You’re sure?”

“Got it confirmed with DNA evidence that this is your brother,” Gavin said.

“Which one?”

“What?”

Nines turned around to face him again. “Do you know which of my brothers it is?”

Gavin was surprised by the firm, low tone Nines used. It was flat and Gavin had never heard Nines use it outside of an interrogation. Gavin felt like a suspect, Nines’ eyes were narrowed and pinning him in place. Nines was caught off guard. He was getting defensive. There was an imbalance of information in the room and Gavin could tell it put Nines on edge.

“We think it’s Connor,” Gavin said.

“You _think_ it’s Connor? I thought you were trying to be sure,” Nines said quickly, the words coming out like an assembly line, one after the other.

“Well, Anderson met the other one and he introduced himself as Colin. We figured that meant the twin in the club was Connor,” Gavin said, ready to give Nines the relief of knowing both of them were found. Not just one.

Nines wrinkled his nose and clenched his jaw. He exhaled loudly through his nose. “This isn’t funny, Gavin. I don’t appreciate a joke like this. I thought you were-“

“I am being serious, Rich. I swear that I’m telling you the truth. I would never lie to you about something like this.”

“When was the last time we ever were serious outside of work? Why should I trust you with something like this? You've never once given a shit about my brothers and now that you finally are asking about them you have magically found them at the same time? I've been looking for years!” Nines face twisted in anger as he quickly stood up and stepped back from the table. His body was stiff.

Gavin held his phone out, the texts from Anderson still pulled up and on display. The photos were visible on the chat. Gavin glanced at them briefly before shoving the phone towards Nines. It was impossible not to see the resemblance between them. Their features were so similar, almost identical if not for the dark circles under Connor’s eyes that stood out against his pale skin. Connor had more freckles than Nines did, the dark brown spots speckled over his face, neck, and shoulders. The dots moved down his chest and drifted like waves over the ridges of his ribcage. It was a hard picture to look at, but there was a resemblance.

Nines must have seen the likeness as well. He must have seen the similar traits to their father. Although the two brothers were almost identical and Connor’s eyes were closed in the picture, even Gavin could tell that Connor took after his father just a tiny bit more. The shapes were just slightly different. Gavin had been looking for differences all night. Nines had their mother’s eyes.

The phone was snatched from Gavin’s hand and Nines turned away from him, staring at it. There was a long moment of silence as Nined held the phone and stared at the visible picture. He quickly scrolled up to read the messages, lingering on them, before scrolling back down again. They never went through each other’s phones, they had always relied on trust, so it was strange to see Nines so freely looking at Gavin’s messages.

“Lieutenant Anderson is on his way right now?” Nines asked, his voice had gotten quieter but there was a rough sound in the back of his throat. “I have to get dressed.”

Nines quickly dropped Gavin’s phone on the table and walked quickly back down the hallway. He didn’t move until he heard the door swing shut loud enough for the walls to shake around it. It hadn’t been what Gavin had expected Nines’ reaction to be, but he wasn’t surprised. This was something that didn’t have a specific reaction to it. Nines might be thrilled or he might be horrified but with something like this he might not want to let it show.

Still, Gavin didn’t know what to do with the shameful feeling of hurt that twisted in his stomach at the response he had received. It was upsetting news, Gavin could understand that. Connor didn’t look like he was doing good. Even though Nines now knew the truth, and that had to be better than knowing nothing, it was hard to see what had happened to them. Gavin didn’t care if Nines was upset with the information and needed a moment, even to lash out, but Gavin hated that Nines would sooner assume Gavin was lying than that his brothers were found. Nines thought he was capable of joking about it. He assumed Gavin wouldn’t take it seriously from the start.

The papers were still laid out neatly on the table. Nines had probably worked through this case a million times and he was ready to lay it all out again. Whatever lead he was working on at the time. Gavin really threw him a curveball. He wondered if he should put them all away or leave them out for Anderson to see, to go over how Connor and Colin had gotten to be where they are, in case any of the previous evidence pointed that direction.

There was a loud knock on the door, enough to jolt Gavin’s thoughts from Nines and his case to realize how much time had gone by. There wasn’t a lot of time to get ready, Gavin didn’t give Nines any time to prepare. The man was still getting ready for the day, still on the verge of waking up, and Gavin had sprung so much on him. He moved towards the door and pulled it open. If Nines looked like he had just woken up, Anderson looked like he hadn’t slept at all. His jacket hung awkwardly on his shoulders, deep wrinkles pressed into button-up shirts. His hair stuck together in clumps and the smell of liquor rolled off of him in waves.

“You couldn’t have showered first?” Gavin said as he stepped back from the door and let the man in.

“You’re the one who invited me over at the asscrack of dawn,” Anderson said.

“Did you sleep at all or did you just stay up drinking? I told Nines about Connor and Colin so I was hoping you would pull yourself together enough to tell him what is going on!” Gavin said quickly. His hands were shaking. He wanted to scream louder because Anderson was supposed to be here with the answers.

Anderson scoffed. “I slept for like half an hour on the floor of that nightclub making sure Nines’ brother got some rest. You think I like going there? Excuse me for needing a fucking drink,” He said. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and groaned. “I haven’t slept at all since I left that place. Makes my skin crawl.”

He was still drunk. Gavin could see it in the way he stumbled, balance thrown awkwardly to one side, and his feet scraped the ground. The bathroom was empty, Gavin was tempted to tell the man to go take a cold shower before he talked to Nines. There was an entire case laid out for them on the table, Nines was busy getting ready, and Anderson was falling apart.

“Go get cleaned up,” Gavin said. He pointed to the bathroom.

Anderson shrugged.

The whole situation felt unreal, but Gavin didn’t let out the sigh he was holding in until after the bathroom door closed. He knew better than to be surprised. After the last few incidents that forced Anderson to ‘retire’ there was no chance Hank would take this seriously enough to remain sober. This wasn’t Anderson’s family after all. If Cole was the one kidnapped and held captive in a sec club he might not touch a bottle at all until the building was torn down brick by brick. But this wasn’t Cole. This was Connor. That meant that Anderson didn’t care if he was Connor’s only connection to his family, he was still going to drink. It pissed Gavin off. It made him curl his hands into fists, his arms tense at his side, and tried not to punch a hole in the wall. 

He hated Anderson. Gavin wished, by some slim bit of luck, Colin had come to him for help instead. Maybe it was that Anderson reeked of desperation and bad decisions, a drunken idiot who anyone could pay to do anything as long as he could keep drinking. This entire case rested in Anderson’s hands and the thought alone was scary. At one point, Anderson was a great cop. Hell, when Gavin first started it was before the accident and Anderson was an incredible detective. Youngest to ever be made lieutenant and Gavin had a lot of respect for the man. That was back then. Today Anderson couldn’t stay sober for long enough to do anything and that included solving a case.

The bedroom door popped open and Nines stepped out, casually patting out the wrinkles of his sweater. His eyes stared at some point on the floor, unfocused and with a slight frown. Nines lingered there a few moments, his fingers dug into the fabric of his sweater, and then let out a tired sounding sigh.

“When will he be here?” Nines asked.

“He’s in the bathroom getting cleaned up,” Gavin said.

“He’s already here? You were just gonna let me do this in my pajamas? I wish…” Nines trailed off. He was unhappy, his face twisted in annoyance. There was a wrinkle between his eyebrows. He walked down the hall and back into the kitchen. “I wish you would have told me sooner.”

“I wanted to be sure,” Gavin said again.

_“Sure.”_ Nines sneared, his nose twitched as he said the word.

“You’re angry,” Gavin said.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, I can tell. You think I don’t know when you’re angry? Is it me?” Gavin asked.

Nines grimaced. His lips pressed together in a thin line as his eyes darted back down the hallway. “I’m not angry. I should be happy. You found my brother.”

“‘Should be’ is a long way from being actually happy,” Gavin said.

“I want a copy of the DNA test please, the one you stole my hair for. I would like to see the results for myself. And I want you to send me the pictures,” Nines said flatly. He stood a couple feet from Gavin, his hands braced on his hips, and his eyes landed on his papers. The laid out files waited on the table for them.

“Of course. Yeah, I’ll send all of it to you,” Gavin said.

“I want more pictures.”

“There are no more,” Anderson said. He had slipped out of the bathroom, his messy hair was slightly damp and smoothed down out of his face and his eyes looked a bit clearer. “I’m not allowed to take pictures of him.”

Nines turned away from Gavin, his shoulders tense, and faced Anderson. “Then how did you get them?”

Anderson shrugged. “I bribed him with food and told him to close his eyes,” he said as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “It was one of the rules. No pictures.”

“Do you think you can get more?” Nines asked.

Gavin forwarded the photos. The test results had been emailed to him shortly after the call. It said right there in the first few sentences that the sibling relationship was confirmed by the lab. This was about as official as evidence could get and Nines pulled out his phone the moment it dinged, ready to receive it. All of the information Gavin had to Connor. It wasn’t much, but the DNA test confirmed it to be his brother and there were two pictures. It was more than the case had gotten in decades.

“I could try to get more. I just don’t want him to report me and then I don’t get to see him again,” Anderson said. He looked between Gavin and Nines, a small frown set on his face. “Nice to see he finally told you about it.”

“It is nice,” Nines said. “We will have to work around the no photographs rule, but it would be easy for them to say he doesn’t exist when there’s no images of him. He’s really skinny.”

“He would have eaten the entire pizza box if I didn’t also bring him a sandwich,” Anderson said.

“Pizza and a sandwich. I wonder if it made him sick,” Nines said. He was staring at his phone, the picture maximized on the screen. “He’s malnourished. His stomach might not be used to so much heavy food.”

“You sound like Colin.”

Gavin saw the tension release out of Nines’ shoulders. He wanted to reach out and touch him, even just a supportive hand in his back. Gavin took a step closer and did just that, his fingers carefully drifted over the soft fabric of his sweater. And then Nines pulled away, a space left under Gavin’s hand, and he let it drop. Nines had turned so he could look at both of them, the three men stood in a circle and waited.

“Is Colin in there too?” Nines asked. His eyes pinned to Gavin.

Anderson asked. “He’s not.”

“We should sit,” Gavin said. 

He looked back at the table and all the stacks of paperwork still lying neglected. The case was waiting for them and they had a lot they needed to talk about. They all took a seat, Anderson frowned down at the files laid out, and then looked over to Nines. Gavin felt something sour curdling in the pit of his stomach. Worry perhaps, because Nines hadn’t been reacting at all how he had expected. He wasn’t happy to find his brothers like Gavin expected. He didn’t seem excited. The only emotion Gavin could read off of his face was irritability.

“I need more pictures,” Nines said. He still had the image of Connor on his phone. He tapped it every time it dimmed to keep the screen on.

“When they bring you into the club they tell you that there are two rules,” Anderson said. He leaned forward, braced his elbows on the table, and held up two fingers. “Rule number one was no photography. Rule two was that I could do whatever I wanted to him in my hour as long as I don’t leave a scar.”

“Did he have any scars?” Nines asked.

“Yes.”

“So the rules can be broken. I want more pictures,” Nines said, his voice remained steady. “What about Colin? You said he wasn’t in the club?”

“No, he wasn’t. I should start from the beginning, lay it all out so you can get the big picture. No offense, but you’ll understand faster if you know what’s going on and we can skip the fifty questions. But first, can I get a cup of coffee?” Anderson said quickly. His eyes darted to the coffee pot that Gavin had made before Nines woke up.

“Of course,” Nines said. He looked at Gavin and nodded.

If things were different, Gavin would have told Anderson to fuck off. If the circumstances didn’t involve Anderson having all the information needed about Nines’ brothers then he wouldn’t have been invited over at all. Gavin’s mouth snapped shut, his teeth clicking together as his jaw clenched. He wordlessly stood up from the table, his chair scraped the linoleum, and he went to the counter. He grabbed three mugs and poured the coffee. Black for Anderson and himself, but he knew exactly how much cream and sugar Nines enjoyed. The coffee was a much lighter color and that’s when Gavin knew it was perfect. He delivered each mug and placed them on the table. To his relief, Nines smiled at him and muttered a quick ‘thank you’.

Anderson gulped his down in seconds and Gavin just quietly slid the man his own cup. He was drunk and sleep deprived and Gavin needed him awake.

“It started last week. I was at Jimmy’s bar, having a few drinks, and Colin actually found me. I thought it was you at first,” Anderson said and he nodded towards Nines. “He came in, called me ‘Lieutenant Anderson’, and sat right down. I didn’t realize it wasn’t you. He talked to me about Cole, about how I lost my job, about how good of a detective I used to be. I told him to fuck off and then suddenly he’s offering me a job.”

Hank stood up and carried the two mugs over to the counter to get himself another refill. Gavin watched quietly, his hands resting in tight fists on his lap.

“He knew everything about you?” Nines asked.

“Seemed like it. He told me he would help me keep my house, my car, my dog, and I could continue drinking myself into an early grave if I could do a few things for him. That was when I started to realize it wasn’t you,” Anderson said. He placed his hand against his chest as he pouted his coffee. “He looks just like you, more than Connor does but that’s for obvious reasons. I knew who he was at that point.”

“How do you know it was Colin and not Connor? How can you tell which twin is which?” Nines asked.

“He introduced himself after I agreed to take the job. Connor gave me his name after I bribed him with food, but he kept insisting I could call him whatever I wanted. He actually told me that he could be anyone I wanted him to be,” Anderson said as he rejoined them at the table.

“How many times have you seen them?” Nines said. Gavin didn’t know if Anderson was done telling his story or not, but it seemed that the questions couldn’t stay locked inside of him for long.

“I’ve seen Colin four times and I’ve seen Connor twice. When I see Colin it’s because he calls me on a private number and tells me to meet him somewhere. He tells me exactly how he wants my visit with Connor to go and asks how Connor was when I saw him,” Anderson said.

Nines leaned forward, his head tilting towards his phone as his fingers tapped the screen again to bring the photo back into view. There Connor was, his eyes closed and head tilted slightly back. Red pizza sauce stained his lips and smeared onto his cheeks. The color was bright against Connor’s pale skin. 

“What instructions did Colin give in regards to your visit?” Nines asked.

Anderson sighed. “For the first visit he just wanted me to see how he was. He wanted me to take a look at the place and see if Connor was okay. When I met with him again I told him about how starved Connor looked. Colin told me to make Connor a sandwich. Turkey and cheese with mayonnaise on wheat bread.”

“That’s very specific,” Nines said.

“I know. I offered to bring more food. He had me meet him at a pizza place and he said I could bring Connor the leftover pizza he was eating, but that he could only have one piece and to throw out the rest but I just gave Connor all of it,” Anderson said. He shrugged his shoulders. “Colin said Connor would make himself sick if he ate too much.”

Gavin listened carefully and watched Nines the entire time Anderson spoke. His reactions were flat, almost entirely unreadable as they discussed Anderson’s interactions with his brothers. It didn’t seem to be overwhelming him, which was impressive when Gavin considered the fact that an hour ago Nines’ brothers were still missing. It was still set in Nines’ mind that he might not ever see his brothers again.

“Did Connor make himself sick?” Nines asked. His eyes rarely left the picture of his brother.

“Not at first. I told him to lay down and rest. He kept his eyes open for a while, never moving, just staring off into space. I fell asleep before he did, but I woke up to the sound of him throwing up in the bathroom,” Ander said. His nose twitched. “That place makes me sick too.”

“We have to get him out. He’s starved to the point where he might not be able to stomach food and that can severely affect his health,” Nines said quickly.

“I asked Colin if we should do something to get Connor out of there and he refused. I asked if he wanted me to tell Connor that he sent me, Colin refused that as well. He had me ask and Connor said he was there of his own free will. Either both brothers are convinced the situation is fine or they’re both lying to themselves,” Anderson said.

Nines sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. The picture on his phone went dark and he made no move to turn it back on. His hands were tucked tightly under his arms and his head fell down until his chin bumped his chest. He was thinking. That familiar, frustrated wrinkle was set between his eyebrows and his nose twitched as he sucked in a breath.

“So, Colin knows where Connor is. He told you where Connor was and gave you the money to see him,” Nines said slowly. His tone was light and his voice soft, as if the words were directed to himself. “He knows where Connor is but he sent you instead of going to see him himself. My guess is that he doesn’t want someone to know he’s checking in on Connor.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t want Connor to know. Colin doesn’t want me to tell him,” Anderson said.

“Maybe, or maybe someone wants to keep them separated. Maybe someone is using Connor against him. Colin wouldn’t send you with food if he didn’t want to take care of Connor, even at a distance. And he knew who you were,” Nines said.

“A goalless drunk in need of money?”

“An ex-cop. You were a well respected detective, Lieutenant Anderson. Colin sounds like he wants to make sure Connor is okay and he trusts you to be his eyes. He wouldn’t have picked you if he didn’t think you would be best to help our brother,” Nines said quickly. He opened his eyes again. “When are you going to see Connor again?”

“Tonight. I haven’t heard from Colin yet but I need to make sure he eats again,” Anderson said. He knocked back the last of his coffee. “I’ll make sure he paces himself this time.”

“I’m coming with,” Nines said.

“No.”

“No?” Gavin said, repeating the word Anderson had shot out. “Nines should see him.”

“Nines looks just like him. If Colin is worried about someone seeing him visit Connor then do you think they won’t notice you?” Anderson said.

“We need to get him out,” Nines said.

“And we need a better plan than just walking in to see him.”

Gavin frowned, his eyes darted between Nines and Anderson as they both bitterly reached the same conclusion. They weren’t ready to get Connor out.

”I’ll go with him,” Gavin offered.

This time Nines did let the anger slip through in his features. His jaw clenched as he let out a stiff, “fine”.

“Maybe we should talk to Captain Fowler,” Gavin said.

“Maybe,” Nines said. He frowned down at the papers.

Anderson shrugged. “Fowler will want proof.”

“We have the DNA test and we have the photo,” Gavin said and gestured to the phone on the table.

“The test came back?” Anderson raised his eyebrows as he looked down at it as well.

“Why else would Gavin tell me?” Nines said. His voice didn’t sound angry, but he grimaced all the same. “Fowler would want to tell dad.”

“Fowler would want to organize a raid of the club. It’ll be the best chance of getting Connor out because he won’t want to leave willingly. I don’t think he even considers leaving an option to him,” Anderson said.

“Your dad will have to find out eventually,” Gavin said.

Nines turned on him, eyes narrowing slightly. “I know that. I know,” he mumbled. He closed his eyes again for a moment before standing up, his chair scraping the floor as it was pushed back. “Call Fowler. Connor needs to get out of there and We will need help. They took him and put him there. I want my brother back as soon as possible before he gets even more hurt.”

“And Colin?” Gavin asked.

Anderson was the one to answer. “He has enough spending money to give me thousands and enough freedom to arrange to see me without worry. Connor should be a priority. We can figure Colin out once he’s safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin: ‘hey I stole your hair for a DNA test’
> 
> Nines: ‘I’ve been looking for my brothers for twenty years.”
> 
> Gavin: ‘and you could wait a few days for the results just fine before I tell you we found them’
> 
> Nines: :(


	6. Cold at the Start

Hank smiled as Reed’s eyes widened in shock. He had warned him that the cover charge just to get into the club was outrageous enough to turn anyone away, but they both knew it wasn’t the price to get in, it was the price to buy someone. They were here to buy Connor. This time Hank intended to stay sober. He wanted to see Connor with clear eyes, see if everything he reported back to Richard was accurate.

The club was the same every time. The lights moved and flashed. They illuminated the room in a dim, cool light that almost made their pale skin tint blue. He was nervous every time he came here. Hank always kept his head low and his shoulders stiff. The collar of his jacket was pulled up for him to hide behind. The bouncers around the edges of the room always seemed to be watching. Hank turned his attention to the bar where he once again met the same man who had served him each night. Did he recognize Hank by now? He likely already knew who Hank was here to see, who he wanted, and how long he would be willing to wait. It was still early in the night, the club hadn’t been open for very long, and no other patrons were waiting. Hank hoped they could see Connor right away.

Reed’s eyes had drifted. Hank could see the movements of the dancers from the corner of his eye. Hank resisted the urge to glance over. He didn’t want to watch them and remember why they were all here. Tonight he really wanted to try and not get drunk. Gavin was outright staring. His eyes were wide and round, the lights shining in them, and he looked like he had never seen a stripper before.

“Could you please focus on why we’re here,” Hank said as he stepped close to Reed and kept his voice low. He could barely hear himself over the low, thumping base of the music.

Hank looked over quickly before turning away again. There were hardly any customers near the stage. The club was mostly empty, maybe three other customers besides them, and Hank had no desire to join them. This was a strip club and that meant they were supposed to be there to look at dancers but everything about this place made him sick. There was no way he could sit down and watch.

“Connor,” Reed said back in the same low voice.

“We have to order him at the bar,” Hank said, reminding him of how this place worked. “He might already be with someone so there could be a wait. Hell, I’m not even sure if they’ll let us in at the same time.”

He needed to stay sober. If Reed could stay by his side if they had to wait at the bar then it would be easier. If not, Hank would have to see Connor first. He could leave right after and they could meet up again, but he could not sit at the bar and wait if Reed went downstairs before he did. This whole place made him nervous. The bouncers watched them as Hank grabbed Reed’s elbow and pulled him closer to the bar, but the man kept watching the dancers.

Reed shrugged out of his hold and nodded towards the stage, he continued to stare, eyes wide. “Is that him over there?”

Hank froze. A cold chill ran up his spine as he slowly turned to follow Reed’s eyes. Of course he always knew Connor would be up there, dancing, on display for eager shoppers. It just hadn’t happened yet. He had never come in here and had to see Connor up there. When Hank came to the club the kid was usually already downstairs. Showered and scrubbed raw. Right now Connor was on the stage, on his hands and knees near the edge of the stage. The blue lights pulsed and Connor’s skin looked icy and translucent in the dimness of it. A man stood in front of him with his hand curled around Connor’s arm, leaning in close to press his lips to his ear. Hank didn’t often go to strip clubs, but he assumed there was a standard rule to not touch the dancers.

The man had a hold of Connor’s arm right below the elbow. The only other men in the crowd had eyes elsewhere, on other dancers. The bouncers watched but made no move to come closer to break them up. No one cared. The man had already paid after all. He reached up, hand drifting slowly up Connor’s neck until his fingers brushed over his lips. Connor opened up, his head tilted back slightly, and the man’s fingers pushed into his mouth.

Hank turned away. He grabbed Reed’s elbow and dragged him. The bartender smiled as he watched the two of them approach. Connor was on the stage. He wasn’t downstairs with customers and that meant there shouldn’t be a wait. They could bring Connor to his private room downstairs and let him rest for a bit.

“Bourbon,” Hank said when they made it to the bar. “My usual. Tall, pale glass.”

“I’ll have the same,” Reed said.

“We would actually like to share,” Hank said with a nod.

The bartender raised an eyebrow, his eyes glanced quickly between Hank and Reed before he smiled, his lips pressed together in a thin line. Then he looked past them, off behind them at the stage. Hank looked back. He didn’t want to, but he followed the bartender's eyes to see the man, fingers still in Connor’s mouth, lips still pressed to his ear, and hand still curled around his arm.

“Looks like you’re right on time. Someone else was interested as well, but you two already know what you want,” the man said in his usual polite, professional tone. He set out two glasses and began pouring the bourbon. “The two of you may share your drinks. Enjoy.”

Hank’s fingers still touched the glass. Reed grabbed his and knocked it back. His elbows braced on the counter and his head ducked low. Hank let his hand tighten around the glass. He would stay sober, he reminded himself. This time he wanted to actually see Connor. He wanted to look him in the eyes and be able to read it. He used to be good at that before. Back when he was a cop he could talk to people just fine. He could talk to suspects, victims, and Hank had a natural talent for keeping a cool head. He used to be able to do a lot of things before. If Hank remembered correctly, Reed usually had more control than this on the job. They both worked narcotics and Reed had been a rookie at the time, but he still had a lot of damn respect for the job at the time. Right now Reed had fistfuls of his brown hair between his fingers. He was stressed.

This wasn’t a normal case. It was personal for him. Seeing a picture on his phone was one thing but seeing Connor in person was another. Especially after seeing Nines this morning. Hank had seen all three of the brothers almost back to back, looked each of them in the eyes, and had gotten to somewhat get used to the idea that the twins were alive. Reed had to meet his boyfriend’s brothers for the very first time in a situation like this.

“Here,” Hank said. He pushed his drink over to Reed. “It’ll help you relax.”

Reed looked back over his shoulder and Hank looked back with him. Connor was no longer on the stage. The man had taken a seat near the stage, a soft frown set on his face, his eyes drifting over the remaining dancers. Reed turned back around first and took Hank’s offered glass.

“Gentlemen, your room is ready.”

Hank stood up and gave the bartender a quick nod. There hadn’t been much of a wait at all. Hank was used to waiting upwards of an hour or two for Connor to be freed up and the room prepared. They must have been the first today. The evidence of all of Connor’s other visitors didn’t need to be cleared away yet. Hank walked towards the door, Reed just a step behind him. The woman was already waiting, her hands folded behind her back, and a smile spread over her face as Hank and Reed came up to her.

“It’s wonderful to see you again so many nights in a row. You must be very satisfied with your time here, especially to bring a friend to share with,” The woman said kindly. She led them through the door and down the familiar set of stairs. Her voice started to bounce off of the close concrete walls the deeper they went. “The two of you shall share the single hour, with the awareness that you both paid your cover charge. The two of you may enjoy your hour however you please but the rules are still the same. You may not take photographs and you may not leave scars or any lasting damage. You’ll notice some bruising today, which we apologize for, but if you dislike it we have others you could try for tonight. The bruises will clear in a few days.”

The woman smiled over her shoulder at them as they came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. Hank smiled back and nodded. Reed didn’t say anything. He was quiet but Hank could still hear his footsteps echoing behind him. The same nerves that curled into his stomach his very first time coming here was starting to bubble up again. It twisted inside of him and Hank closed his eyes. The air still tasted stale and damp down here.

“We’re just here to see him,” Hank said.

She nodded and unlocked the door and Hank wasted no further time in pushing through. Connor was already waiting for them. It was expected, but his heart still skipped a beat seeing him up close in this room. He stood up from the bed as soon as they both entered, the door clicking locked behind them. Connor was still in the outfit he had been wearing upstairs. Black spandex shorts and a white shirt that clung to his skin. A black tie was pulled tightly around his neck. It made the sick, nauseated feeling in his stomach twist tighter. It could have been an attractive outfit if the very nature of it didn’t show off just how small Connor was. He had seen Richard just this morning and it was hard to remember that Connor was the oldest. He looked sunken in and stunted. His limbs were bone thin, eyes wide and round. Make up smeared across his face, with glitter in his cheeks and eyes, and all of it made Connor look so much younger. He was almost a good ten years older than what Hank would have guessed if he didn’t know better.

“Hi, Hank. We’re gonna have a good time tonight,” Connor said. He walked up to them, rubbing his hands together in front of himself. Connor’s eyes drifted behind Hank to Reed. “You brought a friend to share me with.”

“Not like that. He just wanted to meet you,” Hank said.

He wished there could have been a way to warn Connor that Reed was coming. In this kind of life, having two men walk into his room was likely something to put him on edge. Connor tilted his head back a bit as he glanced over Hank’s shoulder. There was a quiet moment as Connor looked at Reed, a soft twitch of his nose.

“It’s nice to meet you. What would you like to have me do?” Connor asked.

Hank stepped back when he heard Reed come up next to him. The DNA tests had confirmed it and, even with the sickly level of thinness, Connor was clearly Nines’ brother. They had the same face. The same noses, same lips, and same jaw lines. Connor looked like Colin, all of the features were the same with maybe half the weight on him. And Colin looked like Richard, slightly shorter and leaner but with a roundness to his face and a chubbiness in his cheeks. They were broader and both stood slightly taller compared to Connor.

Reed stepped forward, between Connor and Hank, and leaned in slightly. It was quiet, neither of them even really breathing because every sound made in this concrete room echoed so loudly. Maybe that was by design. Reed’s hand moved closer to cup Connor’s chin, tilting it upwards towards the light. Hank stepped forward, his hand darting out to grab onto Reed’s wrist. Immediately the hand was ripped out of Hank’s hold.

“What is your problem?” Reed said.

“You probably shouldn’t touch him,” Hank said softly.

Connor was staring at their hands. His chin was still tilted up and his body leaned slightly towards Reed. His eyes looked down his nose to where their hands had just been lingering, Hank’s hand wrapped around Reed’s wrist. His pupils were wide.

“It’s alright for him to touch me,” Connor said softly. His lips pulled up into a smile. “What would you like me to call you? In order to ensure privacy and discretion, I can refer to you as simply ‘John’ unless you have a preference of what you want to be called.”

“Call me Gavin,” Reed said. His hands now hung limp at his sides. “Can you tilt your head back for me? Chin up.”

Connor did as he was instructed and barred his neck for the two men. The shadows pulled back and the light shined down on his neck and Hank could see what had caught Reed’s eye. Bruises. They peeked out under his necktie and they were purpling so dark they nearly matched the black of the tie. Hank’s stomach curled tighter. Reed crouched slightly, his nose wrinkled, as he eyed the bruises.

“Did someone do this to you?” Hank asked.

“I can cover them up if they bother you,” Connor said, his eyes sliding away from Reed and to the older man.

“They don’t bother us, we just want to make sure you’re okay. Did one of your Johns do this?” Hank asked.

“Take off the tie,” Reed said.

Connor’s hands lifted and started to pull it loose from his neck. The knot loosened enough for Connor to pull it over his head and then tilted his chin back up for Reed to see. The bruises were easier to see without that thing around his neck, the deep purple blotches that wrapped all the way around. The largest part of the bruise had bloomed at the center and it spread out both sides around his throat.

“Did he have those yesterday?”Reed asked.

“What happened?” Hank said softly..

“I can’t give you details on what happens outside of your allotted time. If they bother you then I could cover them. Or I could lay on my stomach so you won’t have to look at them,” Connor said. He leaned slightly as he turned around to glance at the bed, invading Reed’s space as he swayed.

Hank’s hand darted out again, this time to grab Connor’s shoulder as his weight started to fall too far forward and nearly collapsed into Reed. Connor’s skin felt warm, burning under Hank’s palm. He was flushed a bright pink and his pupils were blown wide as his eyes turned back to Hank, eyebrows drawn together. Something was wrong with him. For a moment Hank wondered if he was sick, that his health was failing him right before their eyes. He looked so frail, weak from a fever, bleary from exhaustion, and up far too late.

“Connor, I want you to go sit down,” Reed said.

There was a firmness in his words that made Hank pause. Connor’s eyes drifted, stalling a moment until they found Reed’s. Then he smiled and nodded, almost too eagerly.

“Yes, of course.”

Connor slipped back and Hank’s hand fell back to his side. Each step that Connor took away Hank took forward. He looked over to Reed and frowned. He wanted to step in, out space between Reed and Connor because he absolutely hated that tone of voice he had used just now. Reed raised his hand slightly as if to placate Hank. The bed creaked slightly as Connor plopped down onto it. His weight continued to fall back until he was lying flat.

“Connor, are you hungry?” Reed asked.

“Did Hank tell you my name?” Connor said, pushing up onto his elbows.

“Are you hungry?” Reed asked again.

They were all silent for a moment. Connor stared up at Reed and blinked slowly. Then he turned to Hank. He looked confused, eyebrows drawn together and an uncomfortable look in his eyes. It was a struggle, but Connor slowly pushed himself back up until he was sitting. Reed dug through his pockets and pulled out a package of peanut butter crackers in a plastic wrapper. It would be light enough as a first snack without making him sick, at least that was the goal. Reed dangled the package in front of him and Connor’s head tilted up to look at it.

“You can have this, but I want you to tell me if the man upstairs gave you anything,” Reed said calmly. 

He paused for a moment and waited, but Connor just kept starting. Hank’s jaw clenched to hold in the curse that nearly slipped out of his mouth. He didn’t want to break the focus in the room. It wasn’t hard to fit the pieces together, he had worked Narcotics for years. He was drugged. Connor’s body was hardly working for him anymore, he had to brace himself up on his arms to keep from falling, but the only thing Connor seemed to be able to focus on was the crackers inches in front of his face.

“The man?” Connor asked.

Reed nodded. “Upstairs while you were dancing. Remember. There was a man who you caught the attention of and he came up to you while you were on stage.”

“He put something in my mouth,” Connor said.

Hank sighed. Connor was high, his pupils blown wide and he was slipping further and further away with each passing moment. It complicated things. They could put Connor in a cool shower to try and sober him up but the room felt so cold tonight. Connor’s hands darted out and plucked the crackers from the air. He pulled the package against his chest and he tried to tear them open with shaky fingers. It crinkled loudly as the plastic was ripped away and the crackers tumbled out onto his lap. Connor’s eyes darted up again, his fingers twitched.

“Go ahead. It’s okay,” Reed said softly.

“Thank you, Gavin.”

Connor was polite, his voice low and quiet, taking each cracker one at a time to eat them. He held them tightly in his hands, his shoulders slumped forward and his body leaned slightly. The food was the most important thing, even in this state he clung to it. They had brought pockets full of snacks. All prepackaged for Connor to eat one at a time and hopefully eating slower would be easier on his stomach. Hank stepped to the side, off towards the dresser so he could tuck some food into the drawers for Connor to find. The bottom drawer was still stuffed with toiletries and Hank dropped packages of snack cakes, crackers, and fruit snacks into the drawer for Connor when he was between clients. The bathroom was dry, Connor hadn’t showered yet.

“Do you know what he gave you?” Reed asked.

“It’s different sometimes,” Connor said.

“Do they give you this stuff often?”

Connor took his time to answer. He held tightly to the last of his crackers as he ate and his eyes drifted from Reed to Hank. Then his attention dropped down to the small pile of snacks left in his drawer. Whatever was going on in Connor’s head was unreadable to them. His stare was almost vacant and it probably was the drugs, but his eyes were still glued to the food.

He nodded.

“Every day?” Reed asked.

“You can do whatever you want. I can be very…” Connor paused. His words slowed down and he seemed to struggle with them. “Satisfactory. If you just tell me what you want me to do.”

Hank pushed the drawer shut and Connor’s attention crawled away from it. Every movement the kid made was delayed, from the shifting of his eyes to the way he turned his head. Connor’s weight was starting to lean too far to one side again and he had to hold himself up with a hand braced on the bed. Soon he might not even be able to stay conscious given how quickly he had started to lose control of himself. Hank pulled open a different drawer and grabbed the first t-shirt he found. The fabric was thin and stiff under his fingers. It didn’t feel thick enough to keep Connor warm, but he handed it to him anyway. None of his clothes seemed thick enough.

“Put this on,” Hank said.

Connor stared at the shirt held out in Hank’s hands. It almost seemed that Connor didn’t understand what he was looking at or what he should do with it. Slowly, he lifted his hands and took it.

“You want me to put clothes on,” Connor said flatly. He laid the shirt out on his lap and stared at it more. It almost sounded like a question rather than a statement.

“Yes,” Hank said. 

Connor nodded and started to pull on the shirt. He struggled for a moment to shove his arms through the different holes in the shirt until he was finally wearing it comfortably. It was probably the first time Hank had seen Connor be truly comfortable. Even when Connor was slumped over his food every muscle in his body was stiff. Everything about tonight had been so different from the others. Connor was sinking back down to the bed and every muscle in his body seemed loose.

“Are you feeling okay?” Hank asked.

Connor smiled faintly. “Yes. I’m feeling just fine,” he said.

“Okay good. Are you thirsty?”

“Yes, Hank.”

His jacket had deep pockets and he dug his hand in and pulled out a small bottle of Vitamin Water. Connor’s eyes widened, his lips slightly parting as if he had just seen a magic trick. Hank looked up and shared a look with Reed. This whole thing was wrong. It was unlikely that they would get any useful answers to any question that they might have. There was really only one thing they needed from Connor tonight.

“Can you sit up?” Hank asked in a soft tone.

Connor hummed softly and pushed up on his arms more as he tried to stand just a little bit straighter. His head tilted to the side a bit. Reed’s face was set with a stiff frown, his jaw clenched tightly.

“Connor, I want you to close your eyes and not open them until I say so. No peeking. Then you can have this water,” Hank said slowly.

Connor’s eyes fluttered closer and Hank gave Reed a curt nod. The other man quickly pulled his phone from his pockets. Hank had warned Reed to make sure it was on silent because the last thing they needed was the click of a camera alerting Connor of what was happening. It was messed up, what they were doing. Hank didn’t know how else to think of secretly photographing the kid like this but what other proof did they have that Connor was really here. Reed was likely sending each one to Nines the moment it was taken. He was eager to see more pictures of his brother and Hank could see why. 

Hank understood. He couldn’t imagine having the chance to get someone back, especially not twenty years after losing them. Reed took maybe a dozen photos at different angles. He walked quietly around the bed, moved forward and back, as he documented Connor.

“Tilt your head up,” Reed said.

Connor’s chin lifted into the air. The bruises that wrapped around his neck were carefully photographed. Hank knew what the bruises were from. So did Reed as he lifted his hand and held it out stretched for the picture, it lingered in front of Connor’s throat. It was just a comparison. The bruises were from a hand much smaller than Reed’s, but the display showed the pattern of the marks. It was darker, the purple was almost turning black, where the thumb and fingers would have squeezed and the flat of someone’s hand pressed hard against the center of Connor’s throat.

Reed pulled his hand back and stepped away. His phone slipped back into his jacket pocket, but he didn’t take his eyes off of Connor. Hank waited until he was far enough back. With each passing second of the secret photoshoot, Connor had started to sway more and more. His head was still tilted back, chin in the air, and his arms braced on the mattress behind him to try and keep him held up. He wouldn’t last for very much longer.

“You can relax now, Connor. Open your eyes,” Hank said.

“What would you like me to do now?” Connor asked as his eyes fluttered open.

“Lay down and rest,” Hank said.

Connor’s eyes drifted slowly between Hank and Reed. “You’ll stay for the whole hour?”

“Yes. Now lay down,” He said with a nod.

It was no surprise that Connor was so very obedient. He let his arms give out under him and he plopped down hard against the mattress, the springs squeeked loudly in protest. He had never relaxed this much, his body melting into the top blanket without making any move to crawl underneath it. Hank told him to cover up and immediately Connor began to grab at the blanket. He laid on his side, almost completely on his stomach, and watched the two men for a moment. His eyes were dark, the black pupils made his brown eyes disappear into it. They were glassy, his eyes damp around the corners. Finally, they drifted shut again.

Hank didn’t think Connor was asleep, but at least he appeared comfortable. Even if he pretended to be asleep it was better than the alternative. He could be upstairs dancing, surrounded by people with ill intentions and wandering hands. Or he could be down here with someone else. The man who had slipped Connor whatever drug that was making him sluggish and confused could have brought him down here. The thought made Hank’s skin crawl. Connor already seemed so willing to do anything Hank suggests, would likely be willing to do anything for whoever walks through that door, so why would someone want to drug him first.

“Nines is talking to Fowler now,” Reed whispered to him as he stood close to Hank. He glanced over to Connor briefly.

“That was fast.” Hank kept his voice quiet.

Reed shrugged. “Guess he’s sick of waiting. They want to work on this and get it done as soon as possible.”

He nodded at that, not saying anything else. Hank wanted to get Connor out of here as soon as possible. He wanted to put an end to all of this. There was a chance that after twenty years, Connor and Colin might not remember their family. They were taken at almost seven years old, which was usually old enough for a child to remember, so much had happened over the decades. So much had been done to Connor alone that Hank wouldn’t be surprised if Connor hardly remembered who he was let alone remember his brother Nines. They still had over half of their purchased time and Connor’s breathing had slowed down. The blankets over him were barely moving any more. It was quiet. Hank sat down on the floor to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the wonderful comments!!
> 
> We will shake things up next chapter!


	7. Free Fall

Colin had to rush. Whenever she wanted to see him then he was expected to be there within a half an hour. Today he was across town. He had been checking in, he did it often, even if it was just a couple of loops around the block. He was about to park and wait outside the house when he got her text. They always met at the same place and it was always with the unspoken demand that he be on time. Colin let his eyes wander back to the house one last time, but he didn’t catch sight of anyone inside. He didn’t park even though he found the perfect spot, by a tree and in the shade, so he wouldn’t be seen. He would be able to see clearly in the windows across the street. The blinds were open today, but he didn’t see anyone inside.

He kept going. Amanda didn’t like waiting for him. There was a high value set for her time. She had very important things to do, and he knew the consequences of tardiness. It was unbecoming of a man, she had said last time. It was rude and unacceptable. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he drove. He couldn’t have been further from home and on the wrong side of the city. He passed by buildings in various states of disrepair and the people huddled underneath their thick coats, eyes peeked out from under their hoods. He only ever came here for a reason and Amanda would be furious about it. It was the only secret he kept from her, and she likely already knew.

He sped through the city streets until the run down buildings gave way to trees and empty land. The houses were spaced apart by huge stretches of property. Some were blocked by lines of trees, but the buildings got sparser the further he went. The street grew narrow and the trees lining the pavement started to appear thick like a forest. It was the nicer edge of Detroit. It seemed so far from the city that it may as well have been somewhere else entirely. It wasn’t at all like the house across town, but it was still half an hour away. Colin had to be careful to never go too far unless she told him to.

Colin parked in front of the garage, where it was still seen on the cameras. She likely already knew he was there and had seen him driving the car down the street. She could track him all around the city if she wanted to, because he always took the car she specified for him and wore the clothes she picked out. He knew she could trace him. She always knew where he was and Colin was comforted by it. He couldn’t get lost, and she would always find him.

He flicked down the sun visor and looked at himself in the mirror. With a few minutes to spare, he quickly tried to comb his hair into place with his fingers and straightened his tie. He had driven here in the time she always expected him to take and Colin wanted to make sure he was presentable. He had to look nice. There were also consequences for sloppiness.

The garden was behind the house. The white fence separated the front of the property from the back, but the wood planks swooped upwards into an archway braided together with vines. The garden was where Amanda always wanted to meet. It was carefully tended to, the rose bushes were trimmed and in bloom. All of it was a display, Amanda liked being where she had absolute control. Even the moment Colin stepped foot in the garden he was under her control, she always knew he was there, and she could see straight through him.

He could see her near the koi pond, crouching by a bed of flowers. The soft blue color of her shaw drifted between the yellow flowers. Blue was a good color. It was soft and cool, Colin let out a sigh as he walked closer. He reached up to straighten his tie again, fingers fidgeted with excess energy.

She didn’t acknowledge him right away even though she already knew he was there. He checked his watch as the final seconds ticked by. Thirty minutes on the dot from when she had sent the message to summon him. He wasn’t late. He smiled to himself.

“You’re right on time,” Amanda said. She turned to look at him and nodded approvingly. “You were in the city today. Why?”

“I was looking for somewhere to eat,” Colin said.

“You go out to eat often. Is that something I need to be concerned with?” She asked.

“No ma’am. I’m staying within my limits. I weigh myself each morning and I haven’t missed any of my morning jogs,” He said. His eyes drifted to the walkway around the garden. About a mile of path, and he had to run it twice each morning.

“I know. I’ve been keeping track. You’ve made quite a bit of progress since you’ve been alone,” Amanda said. She stood up from the flowers and dropped her gardening gloves onto a nearby table. “Do you feel you’ve been handling yourself well?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You can control yourself?”

Colin nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. I’ve been very pleased with your behavior lately, since we got rid of your distractions. Except you keep going to see your house,” Amanda said, her eyes narrowed slightly.

Colin took a step closer. This section of the garden was where the aroma was strongest. The floral scent of Amanda’s many rose bushes always flooded his senses and Colin felt like he was choking on it. His ‘visits’ were the only thing he never told her about, except for his meetings with Lieutenant Anderson, and of course he should have known she already knew.

“I make sure he never sees me. He doesn’t know I’m there. As far as he’s concerned I’m just a car on the street,” Colin said.

Amanda never hit him hard. The slap jerked his head to the side and a soft bloom of pain erupted on his cheek, but it was the most manageable pain. It was barely even a punishment, so she couldn’t be that angry. Perhaps she understood why he did it. Maybe she had already forgiven him.

“You put our entire lives at risk with your recklessness! What kind of fool are you? Did you think I would never find out?” She said quickly.

“I just wanted to see him. I never would have told him. He didn’t know I was there,” Colin said.

“How can you say you can control yourself when you let this happen?”

Colin’s body tensed. His chin dropped to his chest and looked down at the ground. His breathing was calm, his fingers twitched at his side. A sense of shame curled in his stomach having been caught by her. He felt like his chest might burst open, so she could pick through his insides and tell him what was wrong with him.

“I just wanted to see,” Colin said.

“They don’t live at that house anymore. They sold it, moved on, and forgot about you. Say it,” Amanda said sternly.

“They forgot about me.”

Colin kept staring down at his feet. He waited for her to decide what to do with him, but most of the punishments she gave him involved Connor and what more could she do that hasn’t already been done. A gentle hand cupped his stinging cheek and Colin lifted his gaze. Amanda’s other hand came up and held his face. She stepped close, an easy smile pulled up at her lips.

“They forgot about you, but that’s okay. I’m going to let you see them again,” she said with a soft voice.

Colin blinked.

“What?”

Amanda pulled her hands back. “I need to discuss something with you so pay attention.”

Colin nodded.

“In regard to what we discussed last time, do you think you’re ready for that responsibility again?” She asked.

She was talking about Connor. He brought up his brother as often as he could with Amanda, trying to urge her to let Colin have him back. Usually he was the first one to bring him up, the first to urgently insist that Connor be allowed out of that place, and each time she turned him down. So much time had passed since Connor had been sent away, it was shortly after Amanda started allowing Colin out of the house alone. It was his fault what had happened and that was what Amanda wanted to hear.

“Yes. Please. We’ve learned our lesson,” he said.

“Actions have consequences. Not just for yourself but for those around you. Do you think you can control him this time?” Amanda said. She tilted her nose upwards slightly.

“I am ready. It was my fault what happened and I will never let it happen again,” Colin said.

“Connor almost died that day, do you remember?” Amanda said. She started to walk and moved slowly down the path. Colin fell into step, and she took him by the elbow before she continued. “How long did it take you to clean up the blood?”

“Three days,” He said calmly.

It didn’t bother him to talk about it. He had left Connor’s door unlocked when he left that day and his brother had always been Colin’s responsibility. Always. Connor was a problem, as Amanda had referred to him. She would have gotten rid of him years ago if Colin hadn’t insisted. It was the only thing he ever asked for.

Amanda hummed, her lips pressed together. “When he got out of his room he went to yours and opened the window. You knew very well that your brother has a tendency to wander. Say it again whose fault it was that he fell.”

“It was my fault.”

“How you handled Connor up to that point was inadequate and far too lenient. The first time he left his room without permission should have been the only time. How would you handle his behavior differently?” Amanda asked him. She always wanted every answer laid out before her, every piece of information dragged out into the open before she ever let Colin have anything.

“The first time he steps around the rules he will be punished. He hates the dark. It would be a good deterrent,” Colin said with a nod.

They walked a little while in silence. The wind blew through the trees and plucked free a few of the last remaining leaves. Winter was on its way fast, and soon the garden would be covered in a blanket of snow. Colin’s morning workouts would be moved inside. Instead of laps around the garden it would be laps in the pool. If he could prove himself then he could have his brother back. He could get Connor healthy again with the right amount of structure and discipline, and then they could get back to their lives.

They slowed down to a stop at the back patio where the house met the garden. The grooves between the stones of the walkway were darker, the grout stained a dark brown. Colin stared at the slightly discolored stones. It had taken him days to clean up the blood. He had memorized this spot as he had scrubbed Connor’s blood from the grooves of each stone on the patio. Amanda had been furious when he hadn’t been able to lift the stain. It had faded over time but it was still an imperfection in her garden.

He lifted his eyes up to the house. His bedroom window looked out over the garden and the far off city lights of Detroit. They used to look out Colin’s window and try to spot their house from miles away. It was that window that Connor had pushed open and climbed out of. He had told Connor to have a good morning and at the time he had still been curled up half asleep in his room. Colin had come home that afternoon and Connor had been taken somewhere else, all he left behind was the mess in the garden that Amanda had him scrub clean. It was his fault. Amanda hummed as if to agree with the thought. With a gentle pat on his hand she slipped her arm out of his and turned to face him.

“Detective Reed went to visit Connor last night. Do you know what that means?” Amanda said, her voice low.

Colin’s heart beat hard in his chest and rattled his rib cage. “It means…” he hesitated to finish. It meant so much. “Richard knows.”

“I’ve spoken with a few sources and a warrant to search the club has already been signed by a judge. The police are on their way there now,” Amanda said. Her voice was too calm compared to what she was saying to him. “We don’t have enough time to transfer everyone out of the building, but we were able to warn them to start destroying evidence they have connecting the club to our operations. Still, they’re going to take Connor.”

“They can’t do that,” Colin said quickly.

“They’re the police. They can do whatever they want. They’re likely raiding the place as we speak,” she said. She stepped forward and cupped his face in her hands. Her thumbs stroked over his cheeks. “I’m going to give you a gift. I’m going to let you see both of your brothers again. Wouldn’t that be wonderful. I just need you to do exactly as I say.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Gavin jittered with a nervous energy when he walked into the club the next morning. Each room was going to be checked and each brick and stone in this club was ripped free and turned over. There were police in the office, the manager let them into the back room to go through the safe, paperwork, and computer. Reed took some officers downstairs. It felt different than last night. The same amount of nerves coursed through his body as the night before, but this time it came with a certain amount of certainty. This time it wasn’t just Anderson leading him down here to meet someone who by all logic should be dead by now.

This time Gavin had backup. He had a warrant and a team of police to follow him down into the basement. Last night had set him on edge. There had been too many people in the club, people there for the wrong reasons. The bouncers could have patted him down at any moment to find his badge when he only had Anderson as backup. Every single person that had been here last night and waited to go down into the basement deserved to be arrested, but this morning there was hardly anyone here. Just a couple of workers and whoever was left in the basement.

The precinct mobilized quickly once they had the warrants and could walk right in. Gavin was surprised by how quickly the warrants got pushed through the court. It was a well-known case, an urban legend in a way for anyone who worked law in Detroit. And they had DNA confirmation of one of the missing twins thanks to some freak twist of fate. By ten in the morning he strolled into the club with excitement shooting through his veins and all the officers who followed him into the basement for Gavin to get Connor. Everyone waited around as if expecting to see a ghost.

Anderson said that Connor was in the same room every time and that he suspected the kid lived in it. The door was locked from the outside and Gavin’s shoulders tensed as he opened it. He turned the bolt and pushed the door. It was pitch black in the room, not a single window or bulb shined any light in so when the door opened it flooded into the dark room. The light pooled in the empty bed, with clean and crisp blankets tucked in at the sides. Connor wasn’t seen in the bed. He wasn’t seen anywhere in the room. His chest ached as he quickly fumbled for the light switch. The whole room lit up.

“Where is he?” Tina asked. She lingered by the door as Gavin walked in.

It was the same room. He had a couple of drinks last night when he met Connor but not enough for him to miscount the doors. Gavin turned on his heel and looked around the room. The officers that had come downstairs with Reed were waiting, all curious about Nines’ missing brother, found after so long. They had heard the same rumors and stories about the missing twins as Reed had. They were all brimming with surprised excitement after that missing persons' poster had been up on the precinct for so many years. They all wanted to see Connor. This was personal though. 

“Go check the other rooms,” Gavin said quickly.

Gavin heard something as the officers shuffled back from the door. He turned around and gave another look at the room. The bathroom had no door. All he had to do was peek his head in and there was nothing Connor could hide behind. There was hardly any furniture in either rooms at all. Anderson had to be wrong. Connor might just be kept somewhere else. He heard the noise again. A barely heard sound of something scraping over the concrete. It sounded soft. Gavin turned around and looked at everything in the room in search of a clue. He needed to find out what they did with Connor.

His eyes landed on the bed and Gavin’s lips pressed together as he sighed through his nose. The concrete floor of this basement room looked too hard for his knees, but he promised Nines that no stone would be left upturned. He slowly lowered himself down until his head nearly touched the floor. His finger hooked onto the edge of the bed skirt and lifted it. Brown eyes stared back at him, blinking slowly.

“Hey,” Gavin said gently.

“Hello again,” Connor whispered back.

He was still here. He had a thin gray blanket wrapped tightly around him and his arms were folded under his head like a pillow, but he was still in this room. Connor was here and Gavin was going to walk him out of here. Nines was waiting for them at the hospital, his own nerves already coursing through him and frustrated that Fowler refused to let Nines come. It was too personal. Gavin was surprised he was allowed to come at all because this was his boyfriend’s brother m, but right now he just grinned happily to see Connor curled up under the bed and waiting to be taken out of here.

“Do you wanna come out from under there?” Gavin asked.

Connor stared at him for a moment as he blinked slowly. There was a similar dizziness in his eyes. Each breath came deep and soft and Gavin wondered if he was sick. Connor’s hand creeped up from under his head and rubbed his eye. The movement at the door must have caught his attention as he laid his head flat on the floor and peeked from under the bed skirt. He didn’t move again. His eyes closed for a moment and several seconds ticked by before he opened them again. Maybe he wasn’t sick. He looked exhausted. It was past ten in the morning, depending on how late they had Connor up working would dictate when he slept.

“Connor, it’s okay to come out,” Gavin tried again. He wanted to reach under there and pull him out. Part of him just wanted to get it done, get Connor to the hospital and then Nines could meet him. Then they would know where to go from here. Gavin sighed in an attempt to relieve a building headache. “I’m sorry we woke you up.”

“What’s going to happen to me when I come out?” Connor asked.

Gavin felt relieved it wasn’t framed as an ‘if’ question. Connor wasn’t going to resist coming out. He just wanted to know the truth, and he deserved it after this. It was going to be confusing for him. Gavin had already promised Nines he would stick around to help. Connor blinked slowly at him while he waited for an answer.

“This might be terrifying for a minute but I promise you’re going to be okay. We’re not gonna hurt you,” Gavin said softly. He waited for Connor to nod before continuing. It was important for him to understand. “Officer Chen and I are going to take you upstairs because there’s an ambulance outside that will take you to the hospital.”

“I haven’t complained of any issues. Why am I going to the hospital?” Connor asked.

“We want to make sure you’re healthy and okay,” Gavin said.

Connor lifted his head slightly. “Am I in trouble?”

“Why would you be in trouble?”

“I told Hank my name. He told you. It’s getting around and I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone,” Connor said quickly. He started to scoot closer towards Gavin.

He shook his head. “You’re not in trouble. We want to make sure you’re healthy so you can go home. I just wanna get you out of here.”

“I’m not supposed to leave,” Connor said.

“But right now you can. There’s people who want to see you and make sure you’re okay. At the hospital all the nurses will check up on you and you’ll get to sleep in a soft bed, not under one. So come on out now,” Gavin said. Pain started to radiate through his knees. His wrists throbbed from propping himself on the concrete floor.

Connor was close enough to the edge for him to reach out and grab. It would probably scare the crap out of him so Gavin didn’t do it, but the temptation was there to get it over with.

“They said I’m not supposed to leave,” Connor said.

He scooted the last bit of the way out from under the bed and pushed himself up. He was able to sit up without Gavin’s assistance, but his head rolled back slightly as he leaned heavily against the bed. Connor’s body could barely hold itself up. He was in sweats and a t-shirt, the clothes hung limp and wrinkled off of his frame and his pale skin made the purple around his eyes pop out. His hair stuck up in different angles from the fitful sleep he had managed to get.

Gavin tried to smile gently. “That doesn’t matter anymore. Officer Chen and I,” he said, gesturing to himself and then Tina at the door. “We are cops. Our job is to help people, and we are here to help you.”

Connor turned his head to look at Tina. She wasn’t the only one lingering at the door to catch a glimpse, but she did smile and wave. She stared back at him. She knew Nines, had been invited over to dinner after he had moved in with Gavin and also knew all about his brothers. Even if her information came just from rumors and internet theories.

“I’m not supposed to talk to the police,” Connor said. He slowly lifted his hand and waved back.

“You’re not supposed to do a lot of things apparently, but it doesn’t matter right now. You can get up and walk out of here. And let me tell you, that’s an amazing thing to be able to do. You get to walk out of this place tonight and be free of it. Even though right now you might not think so, one day you’re gonna be so happy you walked out of here. But I’m not leaving without you so if you don’t want to walk then I’ll have to carry you. I don’t want to do that because I don’t want to scare you and this is likely all really confusing already, but I promise again that no one is going to hurt you,” Gavin said quickly.

Connor’s hands tightened into his t-shirt as the words tumbled out of Gavin’s mouth. He wanted to appear non-threatening, but he didn’t know how to do that when he woke Connor up to literally take him away. Gavin felt uneasy just being a part of it, even as the rescuer, because it had to be terrifying for Connor, who was about to be taken from under his bed and from his home.

“I’m not supposed to leave,” Connor said.

Gavin squeezed his eyes shut, and he heard Tina’s shoes scrape over the floor as she came closer.

“Connor, you won’t get in trouble for leaving. You don’t want to go, we are going to make you go either way. They won’t be mad at you, they’ll be mad at us. You still wanted to do what you were supposed to, but we told you to leave with us,” Tina said. Her voice was calm and soft as she addressed him.

“Officer Chen, I am not supposed to leave regardless of the choices offered.”

“If they ask, I’ll tell them you didn’t want to leave. You’ll be with us, and we will be really happy you came,” Tina said.

Gavin rolled his eyes. “So happy we will stop and get you a hot chocolate,” he said.

“You will?” Connor asked.

There was an ambulance. There wouldn’t be any hot chocolate for a while, depending on what the doctors say about Connor’s health, but eventually Gavin would get him some. It wasn’t technically a lie if he planned to follow through one day. The bribe of food was something that seemed to always work with Connor just as Anderson had suggested.

“Yes. I’ll get you some,” Gavin said with a nod. “Now are you ready to go.”

“I have nothing else to say,” Connor said. His grasp stiffened around his shirt, he pulled at his arms enough for the fabric to ride up his back and stretch. “There’s no point in wasting any more time.”

He shifted in his spot, hands braced under him, and tried to stand. He moved slow but, despite his exhaustion and haziness still in his eyes, he was stable as he got his feet under him. Gavin’s hands hovered, his body leaned towards Connor. The kid hardly swayed as he stood. His attention had dropped to the floor, head dipped down until his chin rested on his chest. He avoided looking at either of them. It would be freezing out and the wind would go right through Connor. His blanket was still under the bed. It was cheap looking with thin, itchy fabric, and Gavin had no desire to get back on his hands and knees to grab it for him. Instead, he shrugged out of his jacket.

“Put this on,” Gavin said when he held it out to him.

Connor took the jacket and pulled it on. It was too big on him, the seams fell past his shoulders and his hands were hidden in the sleeves. He would be warm in it until they got to the ambulance. He didn’t move yet and didn’t even glance up to the door where Tina waited for him. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and swayed back and forth. Gavin reached out and curled a hand around Connor’s elbow to hold him close. They started to walk, one foot in front of the other. When they stepped through the threshold of the room Connor lifted his head again. Tina had stepped back to let them through.

Other rooms were being emptied as well. A few officers were moving slowly in and out of the hallway, people wrapped up in blankets with tired and panicked eyes were led up the stairs. Connor watched them go, a soft frown on his face. Gavin tugged lightly on his arm to bring him forward. He was walking out of here just like Gavin had asked, but the motivation to leave wasn’t there. It was one step at a time until they reached the stairs. Gavin let go of Connor’s arm and braced the hand on his back for support.

“You doing okay?” Gavin asked as they started to ascend out of the basement. Tina walked behind them, ready to catch in case Connor stumbled.

“I’m fine,” Connor said.

The colorful lights of the club were off. There was no thumping bass of music. The only activity was the flow of cops moving in and out of the office, the manager stood by with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched a few police carry out the computer. There were no other workers in sight, just the manager and everyone they had in the basement.

“Hey, Reed!”

Gavin looked up as Officer Miller came jogging over from the office. Chris was a friend of Nines and his eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Connor. He seemed to stall for a moment as he stared, but in the blink of an eye he turned back to Gavin. The poster was still up, it was in the break room now and everyone had to look at it when they made their coffee. Connor also looked so much like Nines. The resemblance was etched in every feature of his face except for the eyes. The other night when Anderson sent the photos Gavin had stayed up for hours and watched Nines drool into his pillow. He would look at the pictures with Connor’s face tilted up to the light and his eyes closed. Gavin knew Nines’ face. Every single cop in the club at that moment knew this was his brother, many were already staring.

“Um,” Chris started to say but then hesitated. His eyes flickered back to Connor for a single second before he turned back to Reed. “The office is clean. There’s nothing. Every cabinet and drawer has nothing in it. The only thing we got is the computer.”

Gavin stopped and took a step towards Chris, his hands went up to rest on his hips. “There’s nothing?”

“There’s not even any cash.”

Gavin looked back to the office, the manager still stood with his arms crossed. He watched the cops tear apart the room without making a single twitch. 

“Thank you, Officer Miller.” Gavin nodded to him and stepped back towards Tina and Connor.

If the office was completely empty then either it’s a decoy, and they have everything somewhere else, or they were tipped off that they were coming. What was important was still in the club, he walked Connor to the front door now, but the office would have built the case.

Connor pulled back and stopped when they reached the exit. The ambulances and police cars were reflecting the red and blue flashes in his eyes. There were people everywhere. Pedestrians had stopped on the sidewalks to stare and many of the ambulances already had people sitting inside being tended to.

“Come on, I’ll just drive you in my car,” Gavin said. Connor was already confused enough and an ambulance might be too much.

“We’re getting hot chocolate,” Connor said.

“Yeah, fine. We can swing through a drive thru on the way,” Gavin said. If he drove Connor then he may as well make the stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reed: you have to come with me
> 
> Connor: :(
> 
> Reed: you wont be in trouble just come on
> 
> Connor: :(
> 
> Reed: we will get hot chocolate on the way
> 
> Connor: :)
> 
> Comments really help motivate me to write so please comment if you enjoy it


	8. Home and Other Abstracts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the fantastic response to last chapter!

The hot chocolate was slowly putting Connor to sleep. He sucked it down in the car before they even made it to the hospital, but Gavin had only gotten him a small. The car heater was at full blast to keep Connor warm from the cold air that surrounded them outside. It was probably all the warmth. Connor’s room had been so cold and the concrete was hard enough to make Gavin’s feet ache, so being in the warm car and having hot chocolate sitting comfortably in his belly was enough to lull him to sleep. Connor should probably be asleep anyway.

It might also just be time for him to be asleep. Gavin suspected it was a nightly occurrence for him to be up all night and that likely meant he should be asleep all day. Gavin kept glancing over to him, his head rested on the window and each breath he took fogged up the glass around his lips. His eyes were closed long before they pulled into the parking lot. Tina held onto the empty paper cup after Connor had finished it. She kept watching him from the back seat, her nose slightly wrinkled.

“You okay?” Gavin asked.

Her eyes flickered to his in the reflection of the rear view mirror. “He really does look a lot like Nines.”

“Yeah. There’s no mistaking it,” Gavin said.

“How are you feeling about it? Nines must be thrilled,” she said.

Gavin grunted and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. You know how he is.”

“Stoic and serious as usual,” Tina said with a soft chuckle.

“He hasn’t seen him yet. He’ll be more relaxed once he does.” He didn’t know how else to put it. Nines had seemed angry yesterday. Maybe once everything would settle down once they move past this and Connor settles down.

“To be fair, I didn’t think this was real until I saw him either,” She said.

Once they pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, Gavin reached across the car and laid a hand on Connor to gently wake him up. Even enveloped in Gavin’s jacket he could feel Connor’s bony shoulder. Tired eyes blearily opened. Connor first looked up at the hospital at the bright glowing sign high above them. He quickly glanced over to Gavin before returning to the building. It was several stories high and Connor seemed to strain his neck as he slumped in his seat to look up at it.

“Have you ever been to a hospital before?” Gavin asked.

“This isn’t where my doctor is,” Connor said.

Gavin frowned. “Where did you usually go to see the doctor?”

“A back room upstairs.”

“But never a hospital?” He asked.

“I didn’t know that wasn’t a hospital,” Connor said softly.

“So the doctor came to the club?” Gavin asked. He wondered if there was ever a time when Connor was allowed outside that damn club.

“He said he worked at a hospital,” Connor said.

Gavin should ask. He wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to know the answer, but he was going to find out eventually. Nines would find out and if Gavin was going to be there for him through all this then he would know too.

“When was the last time you left that place? Like when you’re not in the basement,” Gavin asked. Tina met his gaze in the mirror, an uncomfortable frown on her face.

Connor sighed softly through his nose and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. It was cloudy but still bright considering it was the middle of the day. Connor’s eyes were squinted as he peered outside.

“I go upstairs to dance every day,” Connor said. 

“Besides that. Do you get to go out for lunch?”

“They bring me food.”

“Con, I really need you to be serious right now. When was the last time you remember ever being outside of that place?” Gavin asked. His hands tightened around the steering wheel.

Connor looked at him. He had turned away from the window and the view outside at the large building, instead he watched Gavin with furrowed brows and a soft frown. Connor looked confused. It was a simple question but a blank expression was etched into the kid’s face for almost a minute.

“I don’t remember,” Connor said.

“Okay. You don’t remember,” Gavin said.

He pushed the door open and climbed out of the car. It was just a waste of time to get anything out of Connor when he didn’t even understand the questions being asked. He walked around the side of the car and could see Connor’s eyes following him from the passenger seat. Even when he didn’t understand what was happening to him he seemed to be watching. Gavin opened the passenger side door and Connor blinked up at him.

“Come on, let’s head in,” Gavin said.

Connor hesitated. He leaned away from the open door slightly and wrapped his hands around the seat belt. A cold wind blew at Gavin’s back and into the car where Connor was still wearing the jacket. Gavin wore a long sleeve shirt but the fabric was so thin that the wind blew right through it. The cold bit into his skin and Gavin grimaced. The wind also brushed at Connor’s hair, but he showed no sign that he felt it at all. No wrinkle of discomfort appeared on his face, and he didn’t shrink into the jacket for warmth. Connor just stared at him. Gavin took a quick step back when he realized how terrified Connor was.

He stumbled back a bit further and closed his eyes. He reached up and grabbed his hair at the root. Of course Connor was afraid. A minute ago he admitted that he didn’t remember the last time he had been out of that place and Gavin was a stranger who brought him to a giant, imposing building. Connor was afraid of him. He took a deep breath, sucked it in deep, and counted to ten. He probably shouldn’t be the one here, doing this. He couldn’t handle Connor being scared of him when he looked so much like Nines.

“Reed?” Tina called out. Her voice was calm and close. He realized she must have gotten out of the car at the exact moment her hand touched his shoulder. She whispered to him. “Hey, are you okay? You need me to take him in for you?”

“No, I’m fine. It’s just…” Gavin trailed off. It was the stress most likely but the feeling was starting to make him sick. He really didn’t think he should be here. Nines wanted to be the one to get Connor but Fowler though it would be too startling. Anderson wasn’t a cop anymore. Gavin was the only one who had met Connor, although only once before, who the kid might feel a bit more relaxed with. He sighed. “I’m fine.”

He opened his eyes and gave Tina a nod. They both turned back around to Connor. He hadn’t moved a muscle though instead of staring at Gavin he had turned his attention back to the hospital. Gavin took another deep breath and held it in for a few long seconds before he forced it through his nose. Right now they needed to help Connor, and he couldn’t do that if he was freaking out. Tina gave him a light pat on the back, and they both walked forward.

Connor’s eyes snapped back to them as they came closer. A blank look of calm washed over his face, but his knuckles had begun to turn white as he clutched at the seat belt with his life.

“Hey, remember I told you this would be confusing. I get you’re scared too, but I promise everything will be okay,” Gavin said calmly. He really wanted Connor to feel safe with him.

“I’m not afraid.”

Gavin nodded slowly. “That’s good,” he said even though he knew it wasn’t true. “Do you feel ready to go inside and warm up?”

Connor’s eyes flickered to the hospital. The building would have looked normal to anyone else, but for all Connor knew it could have been Frankenstein’s castle. Gavin waited patiently for Connor to be ready, he wasn’t going to rush him. This kind of situation could easily traumatize him again.

“When we go inside…” Connor spoke slowly, each word crawled out one by one. He was deep in thought. “What will happen to me?”

“Okay. I can tell you exactly how everything is going to go if you want,” Gavin said.

Connor nodded.

“When we go inside you’ll meet your doctors. Officer Chen and I will step out of the room. She will wait at your door. The doctors will want to look at you. They’ll probably touch you but if you get scared just ask them to stop. The doctors want to make sure you’re not sick or injured or something. Tell the truth to all their questions. They won’t hurt you,” Gavin said. 

He didn’t know how much Connor understood, he didn’t want to imagine the idea of what a Doctor was Connor had in his head. He wanted to be as crystal clear as he could.

“Then you will take me back?” Connor asked.

Gavin shook his head. “You’re never going back to that place.”

“Then will I have a room here?”

“Maybe for a little while, but you won’t be trapped here and it won’t be for very long. You’ll meet a few police officers who will ask you questions and you should tell the truth. You’ll probably get a case worker of some kind who will also ask you questions, they might even be the same questions,” Gavin said. Once the doctors were done looking him over then that would be what Connor did, answer questions. “You’re going to meet a lot of people today and pretty much all of them are going to do their best to make you feel safe and happy. Absolutely no one is going to hurt you but if you’re scared you can always ask for space.”

He hoped Connor understood. There was a chance that no matter how clearly Gavin tried to explain it there were just things that Connor just wouldn’t get. Even so, Connor had no reason to believe him. Regardless, his tense grip on the seat belt loosened.

“Thank you for explaining that to me, Gavin. I’ll be sure to truthfully answer any questions I’m asked,” Connor said.

“You’re welcome. I’m freezing if you’re ready to go inside,” Gavin said.

Connor nodded and tugged lightly on the seat belt. “Will you untie me?”

Tina chuckled. “You’re not tied, sweetheart. Press the red button. A seat belt keeps you safe in case of an accident,” she said.

She smiled. Connor looked at her and the seat belt clicked free. He matched her smile. The belt slid from Connor’s hands and off of his shoulders. The smile stretched wide across his face, and he quickly slipped from the passenger seat. As soon as he was far enough away, Gavin swung the door shut. This was good. He was relieved that Connor’s fear could simmer down enough for him to get out of the car. The more time he spent with Connor the more awful his situation seemed. He was very brave. If Gavin was seeing the world for the first time then he couldn’t even imagine how frightened he would be. He was doing a great job at taking everything in stride because all the clues were pointing to Connor being locked away for as long as he could remember.

They walked towards the front entrance of the hospital where a few cop cars already parked out front and the ambulances were parked. Most of the other people they rescued from the basement had already been dropped off and are being tended to. The hospitals were given a heads up about the arriving patients. This counted as a special case. The doctors were prepped for special reactions from the victims.

Connor was huddled inside of Gavin’s leather jacket. It was pulled neatly around his shoulders and the general shape of the jacket held enough to hide Connor’s slender frame. The hospital was definitely warmer inside, the lobby hummed with the rattling heater and the general chatter. There were a few cops waiting for them in the lobby, Officer Chen waved a hand in greeting but Gavin kept walking straight. He knew exactly what part of the hospital Connor was expected in and which doctor to speak to.

There was a nervous energy when they made it. A few private rooms in a stretch of hallways where cops and doctors were all lingering and moving from room to room checking on each of the people they had removed from the club that day. Connor followed him down the hall to where the nurses' desk sat.

“My name is Detective Reed. I have Connor Allen with me. Dr. Sarwar is expecting him,” Gavin told the waiting nurse.

The nurse stood up and said something about following her. Connor stayed a step behind him and the nurse brought them to a small, white hospital room. It was clean, the blankets crisply folded into the thin mattress. Gavin hummed, the small and sterile room vaguely reminded him of that basement they had found Connor in. At least now he had a window and a door to his bathroom.

“My name is Janet and I’m your nurse. You’re going to change into this,” the nurse said. She opened the closet and pulled out a minty blue hospital gown. “These guys will step out with me so you can change. Then I’ll come back and take your vitals. Dr. Sarwar will give you a physical exam, and then she wants you to have some blood work. Any additional tests will depend on the doctor’s exam. You okay?”

Connor blinked down at the gown and took it from her arms. He nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

Janet smiled approvingly. “Any questions before we leave you alone?”

“Yes. If it would be alright,” Connor said softly. His eyes drifted away from the nurse. “Gavin, will you stay for the entire time?”

It surprised him. Here he thought that Connor was terrified of him. He still could be and the simple fact was that Gavin was the only person even slightly familiar to him.

“Do you want me too? Is that okay with you?” Gavin asked. 

He needed to confirm it, just in case Connor either didn’t mean it or changed his mind. However, Gavin was met with silence. Connor just stared at him and blinked slow. A shadow cast itself over Connor’s face as he tilted his head down. The motion deepened the dark circles under his eyes. Connor was exhausted and up way later than he should have been. Gavin was asking too much of him. He could take the fact that Connor asked at all as proof of what he wanted.

Gavin looked at the nurse. She nodded.

“I’ll stay for as long as you want me to. But I will step out so you can change. Then sit down and call me in. The hospital gown ties in the back,” Gavin said. He stepped back towards the door. He would have to text Nines to let him know what was going on. Gavin wouldn’t be meeting him in the waiting room. The nurse pulled the curtain shut and left the room without another word.

A huge sense of relief washed over Gavin as soon as he lost sight of Connor. He felt the tension drain from his shoulders. A deep sigh left his lips. The responsibility of Connor’s care had shifted to the doctors. Gavin had delivered him safely to the hospital. His only job now was to be a simple comforting presence. Gavin texted Nines as he waited for Connor to call out to him.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Richard hadn’t moved a muscle in damn near an hour. The hour before that he had spent tapping his foot on the tile. A quick and annoying series of three taps again and again in a rhythm. It drove Hank crazy. The kid was now propped in a corner of the waiting room and stared at the tv across the room. The news was on, a reporter on the street theorized on the police raid of a local strip club. She noted that the number of ambulances indicated many people were injured. Hank always looked over to Richard whenever the possible victims were mentioned, but he didn’t even twitch.

Hank watched the news as well but his attention was focused on the background. The camera showed people constantly going in and out of the Eden Club, but now it was only cops. Earlier a lot of people moved in the background with their faces covered, some had their hands up covering their eyes and others shrunk behind blankets and jackets. No one had gotten in touch with them about where Connor was. A gnawing feeling in Hank’s chest felt like it had chewed through his lungs as he waited. Connor could still be in the basement for all he knew. He could be getting ready to walk through the door.

“Hey, have you heard anything about Connor yet?” Hank asked.

Richard’s head snapped away from the tv in surprise. He looked at Hank before he glanced down at his watch. “They arrived an hour ago,” he said. His attention went back to the news.

“Oh,” Hank said. His hands rested on top of his thighs and his fingers dug into his jeans. There was a loose strand on his jeans that refused to come loose no matter how much Hank picked at it. “I don’t know how you’re so calm about this.”

Richard looked back at him and the corner of his mouth tilted up in amusement. “I’m not calm. I’m actually freaking out,” he said.

He didn’t look like it. Hank felt like he fidgeted too much, his fingers twitched, and he shifted in his seat again and again. Every muscle in Hank’s body seemed to be pulled tight enough for it to feel like ants were crawling all over under his skin. Hospitals set Hank on edge. He hated waiting rooms most of all. It was helpless in here and all they could ever do was sit around and wait for the doctors to tell them what was happening. There was a never ending sea of uncertainty and the worrying thoughts would hit him in waves. Richard was calm, his body still. Eventually someone would come and tell them what was going on, but until then they were stuck waiting.

“The waiting is the worst part,” Hank said. He wrapped the loose string around his pinkie finger and started to pull.

“I’ve been waiting for a very long time for this moment. I’ve imagined this moment a lot over the years. This is the moment when I finally get to stop waiting. The last few hours,” Richard said. His eyes dropped downwards. “Well, kinda.”

“Colin is okay. He doesn’t look like he’s in any danger, and he looked perfectly fine. He is going to reach out now that we have Connor. All Colin wanted was Connor. That was the whole point of hiring me,” Hank said.

Richard nodded. “Colin is okay,” he repeated.

It would be nice if Hank somehow managed to hold it together through this. This was his second day without a drink and it was already well past noon. On an average day he would already he three beers into his daily ritual of staring blankly at the tv until he drank himself to sleep. Occasionally he would take Sumo out for a bit, and he always celebrated the productivity with another outing to Jimmy’s. Hank tugged on the loose string until it dug into his skin and turned the skin pale white in some places and bright red in others.

“What do I say to him?” Richard asked. He turned in his seat to better face Hank, his hands braced on his knees.

“To Connor?”

Richard nodded. “I have no idea what I should say to him. I’m not sure what he needs to hear.”

He hesitated. Richard’s jaw clenched, and he shifted in his seat. Hank sympathized with him, it wasn’t an envious position to be in

“Connor is not okay,” Hank said.

“He’s not okay.” Richard pinched the bridge of his nose.

“He has been very calm every time I’ve seen him. I was a complete stranger, and he didn’t know if I was going to hurt him or not, and he seemed so perfectly fine with everything. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking about the whole thing. I don’t know what to say to him either,” Hank said. 

He shrugged his shoulders. It was difficult just talking to Richard and that was nothing compared to having a conversation with the twins. Connor just always seemed confused and Colin made Hank feel lost. They were strikingly similar feelings, like being on different sides of the same two-way glass. Depending on which brother he talked to, Hank either had all the information or none of it.

“But he’s my brother. What if he doesn’t remember me?” Richard said.

Hank hummed. “How old was he when he was taken?”

“Almost seven.”

“Seven year olds remember a lot. Don’t you remember being seven?” Hank asked. He had met Richard as a kid, and he met Connor and Colin before they disappeared. They were all smart kids. Every one of them could talk circles around adults. They had watched everything and understood almost all of it. He watched Richard slowly clench and relax his hands. The kid curled his fingers into fists before rolling them back out.

“Part of me hopes he doesn’t remember me,” Richard said. He looked up. “I don’t want him to hate me.”

Richard opened his mouth to say more, to elaborate on what he had just said, but his mouth snapped shut hard enough for his teeth to clack together. His eyes drifted behind Hank, his eyebrows furrowed, and he jumped quickly to his feet. The suddenness of the movement caused Hank to stand up as well. He turned on his heel to face whatever was coming at them that had startled Richard so much.

He saw Captain Allen coming down the hallway, dressed down with his jacket zipped up and in a pair of faded jeans. He wasn’t dressed for work. Hank had only seen Allen out of his uniform, thick and intimidating protective gear for the SWAT team, a few times. His eyes had zeroed in on Richard and marched towards them. Hank stepped back to not separate the man from his son. It didn’t feel like it, but this was supposed to be a happy moment for them. Allen was about to get one of his kids back and Hank would never dare dream of what that would feel like.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Richard asked.

“It’s good to see you too. Are you okay?” Allen said. He glanced only briefly at Hank. “Fowler called this morning and said you were here. Is it true?”

Richard narrowed his eyes and squinted at his father. The muscles of his jaw tensed. Something about his father put Richard on the defensive, and he was hesitant to even speak to him. There was an almost hostile energy that had developed in the air between them that Hank took another cautious step back. Allen’s voice was firm and so much seriousness dripped from his tone. His eyes were wide with disbelief, and he blinked fast as he waited for an answer. Fowler had told him as much as he could, Hank didn’t doubt it, but Allen needed further confirmation.

The silence stretched. Richard pursed his lips together and leaned back. He was the first one to break eye contact but the stiffness in his body stayed, his back straight and shoulders tense. Richard looked to Hank, his eyebrows furrowed.

“It’s true,” Hank said. Richard wrinkled his nose but then the expression on his face smoothed over once again. He was unhappy.

“You’ve seen him?” Allen asked.

Hank nodded. “A few times. I’ve spoken to him.”

“It was Connor?”

“We have the DNA to prove it,” Hank said.

“No, he’s not okay,” Richard said quickly. His hands, curled into fists, hung at his sides. He stared at Allen’s chest as if he wanted to burn a hole in it. “Lieutenant Anderson found him in a sex club and Gavin got him out this morning. The doctors are checking him out now.”

“It really was Connor,” Hank said. He wanted Allen to feel relieved. He felt a bitter scar of envy and regret throb deep in his chest as Allen just stared at the two of them. His eyes darted back and forth in suspicion. He had one of his sons back after twenty years and Hank thought the man should be on his knees with joy. Allen was the luckiest bastard on Earth and didn’t even seem to realize it.

“You should go home,” Richard said firmly.

“No.”

“Dad, you’re not ready. I’ve been preparing for this moment for years, I can handle it. I can take care of him. You just go home,” Richard said.

Allen blinked before he grunted in annoyance. “He’s my son. I have to see him.”

“Not right now,” Richard said.

“What? You can handle seeing Connor but I can’t?” Allen said.

“No, you can’t handle it!”

Their voices grew louder the more they continued to go back and forth. Hank felt like an intruder, somehow invading a private family moment he didn’t expect. The other patrons of the waiting room all glanced at them. This wasn’t the time or place for an argument, not when they were disturbing the peace of everyone playing. Hank stepped forward and held his hands out to try and separate the two. They weren’t being aggressive and Hank doubted the two would dissolve into a fist fight, but he wanted to stop it from escalating further. He stepped between them and hoped the physical distance would work.

It pissed him off that he had to do that. He shouldn’t have to break them up from a fight considering what they were all here for. This was all for Connor. Hank had seen that kid and knew the kind of life he had lived.

Richard’s attention snapped from his father to Hank. “He has to leave. He won’t be good for Connor.”

“You fight won’t be good for Connor. That’s what this is all about right, what’s best for Connor? Do you think he’ll be okay when you won’t let him see his own father?” Hank said firmly. He looked back and forth between the two men. “I don’t care what happened between the two of you, but Connor doesn’t deserve to be part of it.”

“He won’t be part of it because he’s leaving,” Richard said.

“I am not leaving,” Allen said as he shook his head.

Hank raised his hands slightly as if to keep them both held back. “Allen deserves to see his son,” He said.

“Why are you even here?”

Richard stepped back. His eyes were wide and red rimmed, his usual calm demeanor had snapped at the five minutes he had spent speaking to his father. It was a stressful situation. Years of searching had given Richard a chance to imagine a moment like this, his life dedicated to searching for his brothers just based on the case files he had stacked and organized in his home.

“He actually doesn’t deserve it,” Richard said. He stepped back and ran his hands through his hair, gripping at the strands. “He doesn’t!”

“Why? Because I sold the house? Because I didn’t keep up the search like you did? Because I wanted to at least try and move on?” Allen said. He sounded exhausted and each word had lost the bite it once had.

“You gave up! You just said they were most likely dead and acted like they never existed at all. That’s not trying to move on, that’s forgetting them,” Richard said quickly.

“I didn’t forget them, I just couldn’t keep going the way I was,” Allen said back.

“Excuse me, are you the Allen family?” A woman stood behind them with a clipboard in and stopped whatever fight was simmering between them.

Hank stepped back as both men walked up to the doctor. She spoke softly to them. There was a seriousness in her face that Richard and Allen matched. Any leftover hostility that may have been left in them was well covered. All that mattered was whatever the doctor was telling them. Hank watched patiently. He wanted to be part of the discussion, he wanted to know what she thought about Connor and his health. He could hear bits and pieces from where he stood, but not enough to understand what they were saying. He wasn’t family after all. He wasn’t even a real cop. All the information Hank had was what he had brought to the case to begin with and perhaps his place in this was done.

It was selfish. Hank figured that was part of being a deadbeat alcoholic, the need to make someone else’s shit about him. He took another step back so that he could no longer hear their soft muttering over the loud hum of the snack machine. The fight had died as soon as the doctor had spoken. Hank didn’t have to worry, they would eventually put everything aside. And no matter what, Connor’s life was going to get drastically better, even with the flaws.

There was no reason for him to be here. He should be at home, waiting to give his statement to the police. Everything else wasn’t his business. Hank turned his back to them. Instead, he stared at the glowing red exit sign and decided it was time to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Captain Allen: “Where is my son?”
> 
> Nines: “Eat shit and die, Dad.”
> 
> Thank you all so much for the comments and the response! It really does help me write


	9. Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updates, I hope the longer chapter makes up for it

Gavin smiled with relief when he saw Nines in the waiting room. He stayed behind to talk to the social worker for just a moment after he told Gavin he would have to leave the room for a moment. Connor understood. He seemed to be taking the whole thing in stride, not an ounce of the fear he showed in the car had been displayed when they came into the hospital. The social worker had already spoken with Fowler and needed to evaluate Connor before they could decide what was the best course of action for him.

Dr. Sarwar was speaking to Nines and his father, both men had identical looks of serious concern on their faces. The entire family had looked so stern all day, their dark features all displaying the seriousness of it all. They all looked exactly alike. A headache formed behind Gavin’s eyes that throbbed with the banks of fluorescent lights he passed under. Gavin almost wanted to slip into the bathroom before Nines saw him. He hadn’t gotten a break since yesterday morning, when he had first told Nines about his brother.

It wouldn’t be a long break. Just enough for him to rest his head in his hands and rip his hair out to stop from crying. He had spent the entire time by Connor’s side as Dr. Sarwar and her nurses checked him over. He had a chance to see every mark and bruise etched into Connor’s skin. Healed scars circled the kid’s wrists, the skin was thickened and shiny. They went all the way around his wrist as if they were scars from some binding. The bruises, some yellow and faded and others a dark purple, moved up his arms, shoulders, and down his back. Connor didn’t flinch away from their wandering hands, he hadn’t even resisted them taking a blood sample for testing. Even Nines wasn’t that calm at the doctors.

Gavin sighed. He couldn’t stop comparing the brothers. He couldn’t look at Connor and not see Nines. He couldn’t stand the sight of the numerous signs of abuse on a body with Nines’ face. His headache flared and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Gavin, are you okay?” Nines asked. His voice was soft. It was closer than he should be.

He opened his eyes again. Nines stood right in front of him, hands reached out slightly. Captain Allen was still talking to the doctor, he leaned in close to talk to the woman with his shoulders curved forward. Dr. Sarwar must be sharing the details of her examination with the family. Gavun wanted to be part of the conversation. He wanted to know what a medical professional thought of the ridges of Connor’s ribs and the scars on the back of his head that left gaps in his hair. He was curious to know what the bloodwork said of Connor’s drug use. There were so many things that Gavin felt so wrapped up in and he felt like he was drowning in it all.

“What’s wrong?” Nines asked. His hands finally settled on Gavin’s shoulders. “Is he okay? Should I get the doctor?”

“No, no,” Gavin said quickly. He reached up and curled his fingers around Nines’ wrists. “Connor’s fine. He was dozing off when the social worker came in. He said you get to visit after.”

He did not want Nines to pull away. It was such a small thing, the weight of his hands was almost nothing but it still seemed to drag some of the tension out of Gavin’s shoulders. A simple touch always worked wonders. The soft skin of Nines’ wrists felt warm and smooth under Gavin’s fingers. He loved just touching Nines. There was a soft smile on Nines’ face as he took a step closer until their faces were inches apart.

“She did?” Nines asked.

Gavin nodded. “He’s been very good. Scared at first, but we would all be scared if strangers took us from our homes while we were dead asleep. The social worker is just checking in on him, I think.”

“She’s going to see if he will be okay meeting us. I don’t want to hurt him anymore, you know,” Nines said softly. It must have already been mentioned to him because he seemed to have more details than Gavin did on what the case worker wanted. Nines sighed softly. “We also have to see where Connor will live.”

Gavin ducked his head slightly and closed his eyes again. “You want him to stay with us?”

“He can’t stay with dad.”

Nines was practically whispering to him, his hands lightly squeezed Gavin’s shoulders. He sounded urgent about it, the idea firm in his voice, and Gavin knew it had already been decided. He knew the moment he had picked up Anderson’s phone call saying that Colin had actually spoken to him that his life would change forever. Their future, and all of their plans, were done. They had to scrap their goals and start fresh. The large, empty space in Nines’ life he had saved for his brothers was finally about to be filled.

Nines continued, his nose wrinkled at the silence. “I was thinking we could go back to my old apartment. It had that extra room. We would have space for Connor,” he said.

“We can’t bring my cats. That’s why we chose my place to begin with,” Gavin said.

“Then we’ll find a different place. We can afford to move,” Nines said.

He still held Gavin by the shoulders, his eyebrows drawn together. This would be an argument if Gavin didn’t agree. He knew it already, just by the intense way Nines looked him in the eye and spoke with absolute certainty of it. Connor was moving in with him, whether Gavin was there or not. It was an odd feeling, his life turning around on its head once again, spinning out of his control, His thumbs gently brushed the inside of Nines’ wrists and he was met with a soft smile. His hands slipped down Gavin’s shoulders and held his arm. The touch steadied him.

“Okay. Yeah, we can find a bigger place. We can start looking tomorrow,” Gavin said.

There was a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. He swallowed it down. It would be fine because Nines smiled wide enough that his teeth showed and he quickly ducked his head to hide it.

“I love you,” Nines said.

It would be fine.

If it made him that happy then Gavin could live with everything changing in the blink of an eye. He should have expected something like this the moment he got interested in Nines, the weight of his brothers had always loomed over him. He knew that eventually  _ something  _ was going to happen. He just didn’t think it would be this.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nines asked.

Gavin nodded. He didn’t know how he felt right now, but after a while he would eventually be okay. Everything was changing way too fast and it was giving him a headache that stopped him from thinking clearly about it. He just wanted Nines to be happy. He wanted Connor to be safe after everything and if Nines decided it was best with them then Gavin would find a way to be okay with it.

“We can talk about it more later. There’s a lot we need to discuss later,” Nines said. His smile slipped slightly. “The doctor was just telling us about Connor. A warning maybe, but I already knew he wasn’t okay. I’ve seen the pictures.”

“It must be hard to believe it’s all true,” Gavin said. He was still trying to wrap his mind around it.

Nines nodded. “It’s like a dream.”

“A good dream?”

“I never wanted Connor’s life to be like that. I always knew it was probably bad, what happened to them,” Nines said softly.

“But it will be good from now on,” Gavin said. More tension slipped from his shoulders when Nines smiled at him again.

Dr. Sarwar and Captain Allen had finished their discussion. They must have finished with the important details before Gavin had come back, otherwise Nines never would have left his father to learn everything the doctor had discovered without him. Anderson was nowhere to be seen. The only other people in the room were strangers, all waiting for one family member or another. Gavin wondered which ones were here for the other victims. Connor wasn’t the only one with a family waiting for him.

They all took a seat in the plastic chairs after Dr. Sarwar said they could see him as soon as he was done being evaluated. There were a lot of different ways it could go. Connor was drugged up last night and it seemed like it was a regular occurrence. That could make whatever plans Nines had formed even more difficult. He didn’t know what the best course of action for Connor would be. Nines was holding his hand, the grip tight enough to smash Gavin’s fingers together. He had been tense since yesterday morning. Gavin felt bad for him because no matter how stressful this whole thing was for him it was ten times that for Nines. Deep bags were under his eyes and he leaned far back in his seat. 

Things would be fine. Gavin wanted to go home and rest. He had been up all night with Nines going through the case again. It was another added stress for Nines, the case he had built. It didn’t add up for him, the clues left behind by his brothers kidnapping to where they found Connor. He couldn’t see where the pieces fit. It worried him that the obsession with the case would continue even if he had gotten his family back. Gavin needed to sleep off the stress of it all. Connor was saved and in the hospital and nothing had to be figured out right away. He didn’t have to be here anymore.

Nines was the most in need of rest. Whatever physical or emotional strain Gavin felt was nothing compared to what Nines had learned to live with for twenty years and the weight of yesterday's events had kept him up. He was still awake talking to Fowler when Gavin made it home in the middle of the night after seeing Connor. He didn’t know why his brother was at the Eden Club. It was eating him alive. It was sad that even though Connor was found, Nines wouldn’t find any peace. He still needed answers. The case still needed to be solved. Gavin doubted that would change even when they got Colin back too.

A phone rang. A shrill bell echoed in the waiting room and the sound bounced off of the tile floors, the cinder block walls. Nines’ hand tightened more on Gavin’s hand as his father started to hastily pat at his pockets. Allen pulled out his phone and looked at it. His eyebrows twitched as he stood up from his seat. He hesitated again.

“What are you doing?” Nines asked. He craned his neck to look up at Allen.

“I need to take this,” he said.

“Right now?”

Nines didn’t get a response. His grip on Gavin’s hands tightened hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. Allen walked across the room and stood under the exit sign with his phone pressed against his ear. He turned and Nines was left staring daggers into his back. 

“It could be important,” Gavin whispered to him.

Nines wrinkled his nose and frowned at him. His hand pulled out of Gavin’s. “More important than this?”

“No, not more important than this, but it could still be something. We’re in the waiting room and he’s not doing anything useful right now. Maybe he needs something to do,” Gavin said.

“I’m really sick of people taking his side,” Nines said with a scoff.

“I’m not on his side, I’m on your side. I want you to be able to have your family back. Imagine Connor having to choose who to spend his first Thanksgiving and Christmas with because you can’t be in the same room as your dad for more than fifteen minutes at a time,” Gavin said. If Nines never reconciled with his father then Gavin doubted their family would be able to heal from this.

His words must have had some affect, but Gavin doubted Nines was on the brink of a breakthrough. It would be more time, and a lot more patience, before he would be on friendly terms. Gavin didn’t blame him. He knew what had happened and probably wouldn’t butt in at all if it wasn’t for Connor. He was involved now. This was a responsibility that he would have to lose Nines to get out of and he didn’t want to do that.

“I can be civil,” Nines said. He turned to face forward and stared blankly at the wall in front of them.

Gavin smiled, but it quickly fell from his face. Nines was the most mature child he had ever fought with. He would never admit defeat and he never let go of a grudge, but he could still be ‘civil’. It was fine though, that’s all they needed. He could deal with the cold shoulder he was getting right now. Every few hours Gavin would be confused on whether or not Nines was angry with him. He could blame stress and not get angry back. Gavin the same thing when he’s stressed about something personal. He lashed out. He could deal with Nines’ mood swings for a while. 

“Mr. Allen?” A soft voice called out and Nines stood at attention. Janet came down the hall, a big smile on her face and a clipboard propped on her hip. She nodded to Gavin before she turned to Nines. “Richard? My name is Janet, I’m your brother’s nurse.”

She held her hand out and Nines quickly grabbed it. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am. Is he okay? Can we see him?”

“Of course! He’s ready for you. The doctor and Connor’s caseworker are both discussing the course of his care and he can hardly keep his eyes open so they won’t be able to do much else for him until he rests. He might fall asleep, but you can see him now,” Janet said.

Nines’ shoulders tensed. His back stood as straight and as stiff as a board. At his full height, Nines towered over the smaller woman. He stood over everyone. His hands clasped and relaxed at his sides and Gavin wanted to just reach out and hold it. He wished that maybe Nines would stop being so bitter and embrace all the good things that are about to happen for him.

As if hearing his thoughts, Nines turned to face Gavin with a soft frown. “Shouldn’t we leave him to get some rest?”

“You want to keep waiting?” Gavin asked.

Nines scoffed. “You’re right.”

Gavin smiled. Nines’ emotions were batting back and forth like a ping pong ball. He might not even realize how he’s feeling, but Nines didn’t seem angry like he had a second ago. Gavin let it go. Everyone just needed time to settle down. He didn’t bother pointing out that he didn’t make a point and so there was nothing for him to be ‘right’ about. All he knew was that he would rather not wait another second.

Nines’ eyes drifted to the side, where his father was hunched slightly and still talking into his phone. He hadn’t turned around to look at them yet. He didn’t know Connor was ready to see them. Nines narrowed his eyes and for a moment Gavin thought he might opt to go without his father and leave the man behind, but instead he braced his hands on his hips and called out to him.

“Dad, they’re taking us back!” Nines' voice echoed in the room.

Allen spun around, his phone hovering near his ear. His eyes darted between Nines and the nurse. He said something into the phone and hung up. His shoulders were squared and back straight as he marched over. The phone was still grasped tightly in his hand and Gavin rose to meet him. The man walked too fast and his body was too tense for his intentions to be anything good. Gavin stepped forward and turned to face him, Allen jerked to a stop a few feet away.

“I have to go,” he said quickly.

Gavin felt a hand on his back. He felt Nines lean forward onto him, but he stood firm. His feet set apart to remain steady.

“What?” The single word shot out of Nines’ mouth like a bullet. It was accusatory. “You’re really just leaving? Right now?”

“Is anything I say about it going to not piss you off?” Allen said.

“How can you leave? We are literally about to go back there and see Connor,” Nines said. His voice was steadily growing louder. 

“You gotta give me a break. You can’t hate me for showing up and then hate me for leaving,” Allen said. He braced his hands on his hips and ground his teeth together. “I need you to trust me on this. I wouldn’t be leaving without a reason.”

“It better be a damn good one? Why are you abandoning him this time?” He shouted.

“That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair,” Nines said with a snarl. “Isn’t that what you said?”

There was another press against Gavin’s back. Nines’ chest was held against him as his words tried to somehow spew poison at his father. There was a bone-deep hatred between them that Nines couldn’t seem to hold inside. The nurse stepped up between them. She pinned them each with an angry look, she stared down her nose at them.

“If you guys can’t behave then you won’t go back at all. The last thing we need is everyone getting riled up because of you two. The only reason you’re being allowed back at all is because Connor insisted he was fine to see guests. He doesn’t have to see any of you,” Janet said with a quick, snippy tone.

Nines quickly pulled away from Gavin’s back. The rush of cold air made him shiver. The warmth was better. Gavin leaned back instinctively to seek Nines out, but he had already stepped back. All of his attention had shifted from his father to the doctor at the single suggestion that Nines not be allowed to see his brother.

“That won’t be necessary. I can behave myself fine and besides,” Nines paused to glance over to Allen, “he is on his way out.”

Gavin dropped his line of sight down to his shoes. He didn’t know who to look at. Allen took a few steps back to put distance between himself and the rest of them. He was outnumbered. Even if Gavin thought Nines had been aggressive since Allen walked in, he would always be on his side in things. His job was to be supportive. In this case it was easy. There was no good reason to leave right now. He shouldn’t be going anywhere with his son in the hospital like this. If it turned into a fight it would be two against one and Allen knew that. He had to know he should see Connor.

Allen raised his hands placatingly in surrender. Despite this, he had his jaw clenched sternly and his teeth ground together. Gavin stayed close to Nines and turned away, he focused on Janet and her curious eyes. She wanted to ask, he could tell, because her lips pressed together firmly and her fingers tightened around her clipboard. Sometimes it felt like he was trapped in an episode of Dr. Phil where at any moment the family would either reconcile or tear each other apart and Gavin was stuck in the front row. He was part of it all but the only thing he could do was watch.

“Your mother will be here soon. She’s on her way,” Allen said. He backed away slowly towards the exit. Nines wasn’t even looking at him anymore but, regardless, Allen continued. “Be patient with her.”

Nines didn’t look at him and he didn’t respond to what Allen had said. The tension still sat heavy in the air between them but now it was at a low simmer, their anger no longer seemed to boil over. Allen was shrinking backwards and away from them. He didn’t turn away until he was nearly to the exit sign, as if worried someone would charge at him or maybe there was some concern that they would all vanish when he turned away. It wasn’t real yet for him. It hadn’t been real for Gavin until he saw the kid too.

“Are you both ready?” Janet asked.

Gavin lifted his head. “You want me to come back too?” He was asking Nines. The other man’s mood had swung back and forth so many times these past few days that he wasn’t sure if Nines was angry or in love with him.

Nines glanced back at him, a soft wrinkle formed between his eyebrows. He opened his mouth to answer but the silence hung in the air. There was clear hesitation and Gavin instinctually took a few steps back until the distance felt right. It never did, every step felt more wrong than the last. He wanted to ask Nines what his problem was, what had Gavin done to make him so irritated, so hesitant to share this moment with him. Gavin’s jaw clenched and tried to think it wasn’t personal. Maybe it was just the stress.

Finally Nines broke the silence with a sharp nod and said, “Yes, I want you to come back. Connor’s comfortable with you, right?”

“He hasn’t expressed any preferences, but he did agree to meet with whoever was here to see him,”Janet said.

“He knows it’s us right? He knows we are coming so he won’t be shocked or surprised?” Nines asked. He crossed his arms over his chest and his body leaned forward towards the nurse.

She smiled, this time thin lipped and the grip on her clipboard tightened enough for her knuckles to turn white and the wood creaked softly under her fingers. It wasn’t a promising sign but Nines kept leaning towards her. He towered over the smaller woman, eager for her answer.

“We told him that his family was here so he wouldn’t be surprised. We want to avoid emotional shock,” she said. Her lips pursed together.

“That’s good,” Nines said as his head bobbed up and down in a slow nod. “I don’t want to scare him.”

Emotional shock was such a hard thing to have hanging in the air. Nines’ shoulders were stiff, his hands curled into tight fists, and it was an open level of stress that Gavin had never seen before. Nines usually stood so straight and proper, always had the impression that he was in control over every situation. It was a talent that soothed a lot of worried families and made too many criminals sweat out their truth. Gavin wasn’t used to the job of level headed one to be his, but he had to figure it out. Nines was barely managing it.

Janet seemed pleased enough with how they settled down. It didn’t feel right going back to Connor without the rest of the family, but Gavin knew Nines couldn’t wait another moment. She led them down the hall towards Connor’s room. The hallway was mostly quiet, all of the new patients were tucked safely in their rooms after being interviewed by the police, inspected by doctors, and some had even been reunited with their families. Gavin had been updated in the raid frequently. Of the twenty-four rooms in the basement of the Eden Club, seventeen people were found and taken to the hospital. He had yet to get a list of names, but Gavin suspected the case would quickly get reassigned to someone other than him. It was too personal. He had only met Connor twice and had very little to do with the case besides Nines, but it was enough to get reassigned.

He kept his eyes on Nines’ back as they walked. He didn’t want to lose sight of him. He stayed a pace behind Nines, who walked next to the nurse all the way to the closed door of Connor’s room. Tina was still standing outside, her back leaned against the doorframe but she jumped to attention as soon as she lifted her eyes to see them coming. There was a flicker in her movements as she tried to stand up straight and still watch Nines. Every cop they walked by seemed to stare at Nines. It had been part of the briefing, they didn’t want officers getting surprised and caught off guard at the sight of Connor and his resemblance to Nines. They all knew the story of what happened and their eyes all seemed to follow them down the hall.

Janet nodded to Tina, raised her hand, and quickly tapped her knuckles on the glass window on the door. She didn’t wait, her hand quickly fell and pushed down on the handle. As the door swung open, Nines’ hand reached behind him blindly and Gavin stepped forward to snatch it. There had been a strain between them since yesterday. Gavin held tightly to Nines’ hand as if he could stop him from going through the door and leaving him behind. He didn’t want to worry about that, Nines wanted him here, had been invited to be in this moment when they stepped into Connor’s room.

He was sitting up on the bed and waiting for them. The thin white blanket was bunched up between his fingers. He was pale as a ghost and Nines’ body froze up as if he had seen one. His hand gripped Gavin’s so tightly that he felt the bones grind together, the tips of his fingers burning from the pressure. No one moved, they all just stared at each other and the air grew stale and heavy without any of them daring to breathe it in. Connor had his head down, chin tucked against his chest, but when the door clicked shut he quickly looked up at them.

His eyes lingered on Janet with a dim smile that didn’t match the exhaustion written all over his body. He glanced at Nines and then drifted behind him, over his shoulder, to Gavin. Connor stared at him and tilted his head to the right.

“Hi,” Nines breathed the word. It lingered between them in the silence that followed it.

Connor’s eyes flickered back to Nines. “Hello.”

Gavin was all but dragged fully into the room by the hand and they both stopped at the foot of Connor's bed. A tingling numbness had begun to spread through his fingers from the crushing grip they were trapped in. Nines didn’t let go and Gavin didn’t want him to.

“How are you feeling?” Nines asked.

“I’m malnourished and Dr. Sarwar ordered bloodwork,” Connor said. He held out his arm and displayed the blue medical tape. “They stuck me with a needle.”

“That’s okay. They’re testing it to make sure everything is okay,” Nines said. He spoke with a soft tone. He sounded gentle and professional.

Connor nodded as he tucked his arm back to his side. “They took three small vials. I’m dehydrated so they had difficulty drawing the blood.”

Nines nodded as well. “How are you feeling?” He said again. His voice was flat as he repeated himself.

It was a difficult question for Connor. His eyes dropped down to his hands and they twitched around the blanket. He was completely still except for his hands, his fingers tapped with a nervous energy that was carefully hidden everywhere else.

“They also want me to have an MRI,” Connor said.

“I know, your doctor already told me. She’s going to work very hard to make sure you’re okay, so don’t be afraid of it. Hospitals are for making people well again,” Nines said quickly. He took a step closer to the end of the bed and pulled Gavin with him. “Did she tell you who I am?”

“They mentioned that my family was here,” he said without looking up.

“I’m your brother. Younger brother.”

Perhaps it was too long ago for Connor to remember. Gavin couldn’t tell much about his life twenty years ago, the kids he had known back then were all distant memories without stable names or faces in his mind for him to be able to pick out in a lineup. Gavin would have thought Connor didn’t recognize Nines, wouldn’t know him, if not for the resemblance.

“What should I call you?” Connor asked.

“Richard. You used to call me Richie, which annoyed mom. I called you Connie, because it annoyed dad,” Nines said. His voice was quiet and his sentences trailed off into a whisper.

Connor hummed. “Are you sure that’s right?”

“I’m positive. I think about it every day. I think about all of it so much, I can’t get it out of my head,” Nines said. He reached up with his free hand to run it through his hair.

Connor mimicked the motion as he eyed Nines curiously. His fingers shoved through his hair , dry strands struggling to untangle the knots that wouldn’t come loose. His fingers tightened, gripping at the roots.

“Your name shouldn’t be Richard,” Connor said.

“It’s the name I was born with. Our grandma picked out our names,” Nines said. He took a step to the side and pulled Gavin forward lightly. “Gavin calls me Nines. It’s a nickname they gave me in the Academy.”

Connor’s eyes drifted between them. “What should I call you?”

Somehow speaking to Connor always seemed to go in a circle. They hardly got a thing out of him before they were back where they started. Nines’ hand slipped from Gavin’s as he shrugged his shoulders and stepped closer. Nines stood next to Connor’s bed now and hovered above his brother. He had to crane his neck to look up at him. They didn’t touch, but Nines’ hands lingered in the air a few inches from his side, barely outstretched at all. After twenty years Nines had mentioned how often he imagined this moment. He must have practiced what he would say. After everyone else had given up looking it seemed Nines stayed searching with a tight hope that he would find them.

Now that the moment was here, Nines seemed uncertain of himself. Gavin wanted to help him, reassure him that it was okay to not be in control right now. Gavin spent the past few days trying to be okay with his life spiraling, every plan he had slipped from his fingers. None of them knew how to go forward.

“Where is Hank?” Connor asked. He looked to Gavin for the answer.

“He left,” Nines said quickly.

“When he brought you to me was this the reason? He wanted to bring me here?” His hands uncurled from his hand and fell back down to the blanket. His fingers grasped at the fabric. Connor started to fidget, an anxious tremble seemed to move up his arms. There was something lingering under Connor’s skin that he had never shown before that was now trying to shake free. Connor’s tone was growing accusatory. “Why am I here?”

“Lieutenant Anderson used to be a police officer, a highly respected Detective. He was working with us to help get you out. He actually found you in there,” Nines said. He sucked in a deep breath and stepped back. There was a chair next to the bed that Gavin had sat in when Connor asked him to stay. Nines must have noticed how he towered over his brother and as a result the smaller man hardly looked up at him. Nines sat down quickly and keaned forward, his hands once again reaching out just a few inches before they stopped and retreated. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

Once Nines sat down, Connor finally looked up again. “Because we’re brothers.”

“Yes. We were supposed to grow up together, you know. You are a year older than I am, but as kids it was like we were all identical. We were all the same. Don’t you remember?” Nines said. He reached out and curled his hands on top of Connor’s. He grabbed quickly and held tight, all motion vanished from Connor’s frame. His hands disappeared under Nines’ and his arms went completely still. “You remember us right? We had a treehouse and a dog. I had a bedroom across the hall from you. We used to share clothes because we all fit the same sizes. You used to call me Richie.”

Connor’s head ducked down again as he eyed their hands. He looked tense and nervous. “I remember,” He said with a flat tone.

“You do?”

Connor repeated himself. “I remember.”

The words came out so softly that the intention behind it was clear. Connor was lying. His eyes were hazy and kept trying to flutter closed. He was tense and he had frozen stiffly the moment Nines had touched.

“He doesn’t remember,” Gavin said quickly.

“He said he does,” Nines said, turning to him with narrowed eyes.

“He’s lying.”

“No,” Connor shook his head. “I’m not lying. I’m not.”

Nines frowned as he looked back at Connor. Gavin wanted to step closer and pull Nines back. Even though he was getting his brother back, he was having his heart broken by him all over again. Connor leaned forward, shoulders hunched and raised high up to his ears. He wasn’t looking at either of them. Nines pulled his hand back quickly as if suddenly burned by the touch.

“You don’t remember,” Nines said.

“I remember.”

Nines shook his head. “It’s okay if you don’t. Is that why you’re afraid, because you think it won’t be okay.”

“I remember.”

Circles. Gavin sighed and turned around. He pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes and groaned softly. Anderson was better at this, he was able to handle Connor fine last night and Gavin had no idea why he would leave. He was the one Connor knew most, the one who had found him, but he wasn’t here to help Connor adjust. He wasn’t there to tell him again, as he had every other time he saw Connor, that nothing bad was going to happen to him. Connor had no reason to trust Nines and Gavin when he said the same thing. Talking to Connor was like going in circles.

“Okay. What do you remember? As far back as you can recall?” Nines asked. Gavin was turned away and had his eyes closed, all he could hear was the hesitant exhaustion in his voice as he tried to get an answer and the silence that Connor met him with.

Gavin was torn. He knew Connor was overwhelmed and startled but he also knew that Nines wouldn’t wait a moment longer for what he had prepared for and all the questions he had decades to hold onto. Gavin didn’t want to turn around and see just which one of the brothers seemed more desperate. He was here for Nines.

“Con, when we came in here I told you that everyone here wanted to help you. I told you to tell the truth when we asked questions. Please,” Gavin said. He didn’t want Nines to spend another night wondering if his brother knew who he was.

“I don’t know,” Connor said.

Nines let out a sigh. The chair creaked loudly as his weight shifted in it. “It’s okay. I’m sorry.” He stammered quickly. 

“I couldn’t see. My whole head was covered. If you were there, I didn’t know. I don’t recall,” Connor said. His voice was soft and distant. 

Gavin opened his eyes and let his arms fall to his side. He stared at the door and the weight in the room tugged heavily on his shoulders. He didn’t want to turn around and look at them; Gavin wanted to leave. He wanted to go home and crawl into bed and wait for Nines to join him. The desire to go and rest pulled on him but Gavin’s feet stayed rooted in place. Nines wouldn’t be home any time soon. 

“What do you mean?” Gavin asked.

“If I think far back, if I really try to remember, my head was all wrapped up tight. And when I opened my eyes I couldn’t see anything. No one ever made a sound so I thought I was alone the entire time. Why didn’t you say anything?” Connor said quickly.

Gavin frowned. Janet was standing outside the door. She was seen outside the window talking slowly, her hand hovered in the air with her pen in hand as she spoke to the woman next to her. It was their mother, not Gavin’s but she had invited him over to every holiday and made sure he had a full plate and full stomach and thoughtful gifts if the occasion called for it. She looked as tired as they all felt. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and her eyes were red and cheeks wet with drying tears. She braced her hands on the window as she peeked in, but Gavin realized he was standing in the way. He blocked her view.

“I’m sorry,” Connor whispered behind him.

Nines muttered softly back to him as the door creaked open. Mrs. Allen came in and offered Gavin a simple smile as she tried to crane her neck to see around him. He was in her way, but Gavin paused at the sight of her. She wore a simple black blouse as opposed to her usual white t-shirt. She had a dozen identical shirts, all printed with the twins faces, and a reminder that they were still missing. Today was different, she was dressed simply, and she quickly reached up to pat at her hair. A few more strands of hair fell free from her ponytail.

“Good morning,” Lori said softly. Her fingers twitched around a handkerchief and she reached out to Gavin as she walked into the room. She whispered to him. “Am I dreaming?”

“No, we’re all awake. This is real. Hard to believe but it really is,” Gavin said to her.

She grasped his arms and he reached out to help steady her. She was delicate, her whole frame fragile as she leaned forward towards him. Her eyes were wide, red rimmed and stained with tears that ran down her cheeks. Gavin always felt a wave of sympathy at the sight of Nines’ mother. She was a slight woman and any strong gust of wind might blow her away.

She gripped his arm as she stepped around him. Gavin watched the shock spread across her face when she saw her boys. He held tightly to her hand and turned around with her as she walked to the bed. Her footsteps were unsteady, her weight shifted to lean on him. For a moment they felt separated from the two men in front of them, she could see two of her sons together, talking, for the first time in a long time and the words seemed frozen in her mouth. She couldn’t speak.

Connor’s eyes flickered again, he looked up at them and frowned. To him there was just another stranger, but he didn’t flinch away when Lori immediately grabbed his hands and fell to her knees at his side. Gavin grunted in worry at the sound of them clacking against the tiles, Nines nearly jumped to his feet and even Connor leaned forward in bed with worry.

“Are you alright?” Connor asked.

Her sobs tore through her throat as she clung to Connor’s hands and cried. Nines reached out and gently rubbed her back in a slow circle. She lifted her head and another sob got caught in her chest. Her breathing was ragged.

“You’re so small. Don’t they feed you?,” Lori said eagerly, her hands shaking as they grasped Connor’s.

“It’s okay, mom,” Nines whispered to her. He leaned in as he rubbed her back. “He’s okay now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nines: I can’t believe you would show your face around here
> 
> Allen: Something urgent came up so I have to leave which is exactly what you wanted
> 
> Nines:...... you sicken me
> 
> Mrs Allen: Sorry I’m late but I’m here
> 
> Nines: ;-; he’s home mama


	10. Cheap Liquor

The lights were on when Hank got home. The car idled on the street as he frowned up and the house, curtains still drawn shut, and door closed. The steering wheel creaked under the tight grip of his hands. The glow from behind the curtains confirmed the lights were on, even the porch light as on, but Hank was certain he had turned everything off when he left. He hadn’t even been home since last night when he got ready to leave with Reed to see Connor. The more Hank took in the front of his house, the lights were the only thing suspiciously wrong from what he could see but it was enough for him to be nervous.

He turned the car off and leaned over to open the glove compartment where he had a pistol and some spare bullets. He handled the gun in the house more than he did this one. The gun he kept in the car reminded him of his service weapon, a standard handgun he bought for emergencies, like the lights on in his house. There was someone in his house.

The smart thing to do would be to leave, drive to the station or even back to the hospital, and get backup. His first guess was that whoever operated the club must have known Hank was involved with the raid, but it didn’t seem likely hitmen or mobsters would turn all of his lights on. Hank kept his finger over the trigger guard and had the barrel pointed at the ground as he walked. The curtains didn’t move or rustle and there were no shadows in the lights shining through. Whoever waited for him inside wanted him to know they were there, but didn’t give any indication that they were moving around.

Hank hesitated outside, his hand rested on the doorknob and he adjusted his grip on his gun. He didn’t feel as comfortable holding it as he did his revolver. The revolver was like an extension of his arm, a part of his hand, and his fingers always fit so easily around the hand and the trigger. This gun was stiff and blocky, he hated holding it and he hated staring down the barrel of it. He hated the sick feeling he always got, a slight drop in his stomach, when he raised it and took aim. Hank turned the doorknob and wrinkled his nose as it proved to be unlocked.

He held his breath, counted to ten, and pushed the door open with his shoulder and lifted the gun and pointed it at the figure he saw sitting at his kitchen table. He aimed and his finger lifted off of the trigger guard just as he caught sight of Connor. They stared at each other as Hank let the gun fall as quickly as he had brought it up. Brown eyes narrowed at him.

“Is that how you welcome all of your houseguests, Lieutenant?” The intruder said.

Hank frowned as he kicked the door shut behind him. The room carried the familiar, heavy stench of liquor. The bottle had been open for a whole and it had breathed all over the room. Hank’s eyes landed on the table, where two shot glasses were set up with the black labeled bottle he had kept stashed in the cupboard.

“Do you make it a habit of breaking in and stealing liquor?” Hank said.

The man at the table smiled and raised a shot glass in half hearted cheers before he knocked it back. It wasn’t Connor, that was obvious now that Hank’s heart rate slowed back down. Colin grabbed the bottle and began to pour another shot, this time filling the second glass as well.

“I try not to when the whiskey is this cheap, but it seems to be all you have on hand,” Colin said. He nudged the second shot glass towards the empty chair across from him at the table. “Have a seat.”

“Isn’t it a bit early to be drinking,” Hank said.

He didn’t move from his spot by the door. Everything in the house seemed to be exactly where he left it. There were already very few valuables in the house, Hank had pawned most of it when his finances became desperate. Anything worth a few bucks eventually turned into glass bottles that piled up in the trash. What little he did hold onto still remained exactly where they belonged. Nothing was missing except for a few ounces of whiskey.

“You’re one to talk. Besides, it’s a glorious day. We should be celebrating. Connor gets to go home,” Colin said.

Hank sighed. He kept an eye out for anyone lurking in the corners of the room, anyone Colin had distracted him from. Hank didn’t see any threats anywhere. The further into the house he went the more certain he was, Colin had come here alone. To drink, it seemed.

“Wouldn’t you rather go to the hospital to see your brothers? Your whole family is there and I’m sure they really want you there,” Hank said. He slowly approached the kitchen. He didn’t think Colin was easily spooked, but he seemed stressed and at least a few drinks in. He was unpredictable. Hank wanted to be cautious. “We can go together if you want. You get to go home too.”

“I can’t go home. They sold the house,” Colin said.

There was a rawness in the back of his throat. Colin’s eyes were raw and puffy as if he had been rubbing them roughly. Hank stepped past the threshold into the kitchen and stared down at Colin. He seemed smaller in the kitchen as opposed to the restaurant booths where he had Hank meet him. There was a curve to his back, a slouch in his shoulders, and his head was low. Colin was drunk, or well on the way to it. Whiskey sloshed over the side of the glass and onto his fingers as Colin took another shot and poured himself another one.

“Are you going to sit?” Colin asked.

Hank took the seat across the table and quickly took the offered liquor. “How do you know that?”

“Know what?”

Hank drank. It burned as it slid down his throat and he plucked the bottle from Colin’s fingers. It had been over a day since his last drink. He hardly ever went more than a few hours. A long time had passed since he had been too busy to drink. Every waking moment of the past day had been dedicated to Connor and the raid. Now there was nothing to stop him. Hank had no further responsibilities. He had no reason not to drink. He poured himself another with the dull thought that soon they would need a new bottle.

“How do you know they sold the house?” Hank asked.

“You always ask too many questions. I hate that about you,” Colin said.

“You looked them up. It’s okay, you know how often I look up my ex-wife?” Hank said and let out a tired laugh. “Probably more often than I should. I like to make sure she’s doing okay. She’s doing a lot better than I am, so that’s something.”

“I’m glad your wife isn’t a pathetic drunk.”

Hank rolled his eyes. “I am too, but that’s not what this is about.”

“You brought it up.”

Colin reached for the bottle and Hank pulled it back out of reach. His free hand slipped onto his lap, gently touching the gun he had pulled early. Paranoia curdled in his stomach and bubbled with the whiskey. He didn’t want to shoot anyone, least of all Colin, but he didn’t trust him. There was a glint in his eyes, even a few shots in and he still had a sly look about him. He was here for a reason and it likely wasn’t to talk about their old house.

Hank filled both of their glasses. The liquid splashed inside the bottle as his hands shook around it, but he didn’t let a single drop spill. Colin grabbed his cup first and held it lightly in the air. After a short pause, Hank understood the intent and did the same. The cups clinked together.

“A toast?” Colin said, the end of the word came up in a confused tone. Hank nodded for him to continue. “To Connor.”

“To you and your brothers,” Hank said. They both knocked shots back. The wood thumped as they slammed the glasses back down on the table. “So, what made you want to come drink with an old man like me, a stranger, instead of going to the hospital so you can be with them? Your entire family is there. The house doesn’t really matter.”

“None of it matters,” Colin said quickly.

“Yeah, so let’s go see them. Let’s go down there and you can see them both. You can see your parents. You really shouldn’t be here,” Hank said.

Colin scoffed and rolled his eyes. He leaned back in his chair and waited for Hank to refill their glasses. There wasn’t much whiskey left. It wasn’t enough, but there never was. Hank poured two more shots. There was barely a dribble left. Hank watched it wobble at the bottom of the bottle. He was hardly even tipsy. Colin’s hand shot out for his glass and he quickly knocked it back.

“I’ll buy you another one so go ahead and finish it off,” Colin said.

Hank frowned, his eyes drifted up from the liquor. “Why are you here? Really, Colin, I thought for sure that you would be pissed. I broke all of your rules. I contacted the police. I helped them raid the nightclub,” Hank said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“You didn’t help them do shit. You’re not a cop anymore. All you did was tell them what you saw.” There was a bitter note in Colin’s voice.

“Well, I also let him eat the entire pizza when I brought it to him. Then he ate the sandwich,” Hank said.

Colin wrinkled his nose. “He made himself sick, didn’t he? I should have known you would fuck it up. You let him hurt himself,” he hissed. An accusing finger aimed at Hank’s chest. “Did you consider that I gave you such specific instructions because I’m the one who knows best for him?”

“He was being starved, I couldn’t tell him ‘no’ when he clearly wanted more,” Hank said.

Colin stood up and quickly shoved his hand in his pocket. Hank’s hand tightened on his gun slightly until he saw the phone get pulled free. He was paranoid, his heartrate hadn’t gone down much since he came home to find his lights on. The tension pulling at his muscles and the crawling feeling under his skin had been bothering him since last night. There wasn’t nearly enough alcohol to satisfy it. Hank picked up his shot glass and drank. He took the final sip from the bottle and set it back down.

The kid tapped quickly on his phone, the endless clicks of the keyboard that hadn’t been silences grated on her nerves. Colin was a fast typer, the endless ticking of his fingers on the screen rattled on at a rapid pace. Hank stood up from his seat and double checked the safety of the gun before he walked to the sink. He had a locked drawer with a face down picture and revolver trapped inside. All of it was safer locked away. After a few shots it would be reckless to keep a loaded gun in hand. He locked it in the drawer and turned back to Colin.

“I’ve arranged for a driver to take us to get drinks,” Colin said.

Hank leaned back against the counters, the wood creaked under his weight. “At a bar?”

“That’s usually where people go to drink, unless I’ve been misled. Would you rather go get a beer and burger at an Applebees or did you have a liquor store in mind?”

“I figured we should go to the hospital. They’re waiting for you, it would be such a nice surprise for your family if you showed up,” Hank said.

There was no reason for Colin to be here from what Hank could tell. He was so concerned with his brother while he was in the club and yet he had come to see Hank instead of Connor. He had come to drink his cheap liquor and leave Connor in the hospital with strangers. Colin’s motives were confusing and hard to determine, but a few days ago he had wanted to know everything about Connor in that place but insisted he should stay there.

“Right now I just need a drink,” Colin said.

Hank shrugged. Colin was difficult to get answers from and at the moment all Hank wanted was a drink as well. The scent of industrial strength disinfectant still burned in his nostrils. He hated hospitals. Even on his deathbed, Hank never wanted to enter one again. The entire drive home he was certain that tonight would end in a pool of liquor for him. Maybe he would even drown in it this time. He didn’t feel like dragging Colin down with him.

“Maybe you should take that taxi and go to your family,” Hank said slowly. He leaned back against the counter, his hands braced against it for support.

He wanted to appear firm, as if there would be no argument but Colin only rolled his eyes. “You’re very insistent, but I can either go out drinking alone, or you can come with me to keep me out of trouble. It’s been a rather stressful day for me, as you can imagine. I would hate it if something happened to me because no one wanted to drink with me,” Colin said with a flat tone to his voice. He stared at Hank and held eye contact.

There was an implication that Hank hated. Colin had an intensity in his eyes that seemed to warn Hank of what he might do if they didn’t leave together. Hank knows what he had done to himself whenever he was stressed and drunk. The weight of his revolver always haunted his fingers whenever he felt that dark feeling in the pit of his stomach mix with the liquor to make him sick. If Hank didn’t know any better it would seem that Colin was threatening him. He was dangling his own self-preservation by a thread to get Hank to do what he wanted.

“Just to be clear,” Hank said slowly. He gestured his hand in front of him as if to sweep away all the confusion. “You're threatening me, right?”

Colin’s lips twitched. “You could look at it like that.”

“That’s kinda messed up.”

“I don’t care. I really don’t,” Colin shook his head. His mouth stretched into a wide grin. “If it makes you feel better, we could make a guys night out of it. Call my dad. Invite him out.”

Hank frowned. “He’s at the hospital. He’s with your brothers. If you want to see him do bad then go-“

“No, I will not go to the fucking hospital. We are going to the bar. Call him.”

“I can’t. He’s with Connor.”

“I don’t want him with Connor, I want him to come out drinking with us,” Colin said quickly.

It was a demand he wouldn’t let up on. Colin had so much control in his tone. Nothing Hank said would change the kid’s mind about it, he wouldn’t go see his brothers, and he wanted to go out drinking. The gun was locked away safely in the drawer and Hank regretted putting it there so soon. His hand lingered by the drawer, braced against the countertop, and he still held his keys. It wouldn’t do any good if he pulled the gun back out now. Despite the intense, demanding, flat tone in Colin’s voice there was a wide wildness in his eyes that made the pit of Hank’s stomach twist and burn. He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“I’ll call your dad,” Hank said calmly.

Colin nodded. “Good. Tell him to meet us at that bar you like so much. Tell him I’ll buy drinks. You can tell him I’m here, whatever you have to say to get him to meet us.”

Hank found Captain Allen’s contact in his phone and held it to his ear once it began to ring. His heart was pounding faster and faster with ear buzz of the dial tone. Last time Hank had tried to call Allen about Colin, he had been one of the many cops he tried to call when Colin first reached out to him, the other man didn’t answer. There was a chance he wouldn’t answer this time. He was busy after all.

Allen didn’t answer, but instead the voicemail began to play. Hank quickly hung up and looked up to Colin. The kid leaned against the wall, his arms folded tightly across his chest, and his eyes lingered down at Sumo. The dog had taken up a post at Colin’s feet, his nose was pointed upwards towards his tucked away hands. Hank quickly sent a text.

_‘It’s about Colin.’_

Hank tried to call again.

“I don’t have much time, they’re preparing us to see Connor,” Allen’s voice said quickly as soon as the call connected. “This better be important.”

“It’s your son, Colin. He broke into my house and is demanding that we go get drinks together,” Hank said. He cut straight to the point. “The three of us.”

There was a long pause of silence before Allen answered him. “Are fucking with me?”

“I’m actually not. He’s already slightly drunk and demands that you meet us at Jimmy’s. I don’t think we have a choice because he’s refusing to meet you at the hospital,” Hank said.

He heard a deep, tired sigh dag out on the other end of the line. “I can meet you there in an hour,” Allen said.

Colin’s eyes snapped up to Hank’s and he quickly shook his head. He tapped on his watch.

“No, it has to be right now.”

“Hank, I’m about to see Connor.”

Colin wrinkled his nose and pushed off the wall and came towards him. “Connor’s fine. Why is everyone there to see him and all I get is you?”

“Allen, I’m serious you need to meet Colin and me at Jimmy’s right now,” Hank said. 

He tried to will the seriousness of the situation through the phone so Allen could feel it too. There was something wrong with Colin. He was not alright. Hank was worried that Colin would follow through on one of his implied threats because he wasn’t getting what he needed. The boy needed his father. If he wasn’t going to come then Hank would drag Allen out if the hospital himself.

There was a voice on the phone, distantly calling out but it was too muffled for Hank to make it out. Silence passed by for just a second before Allen finally responded.

“I can be there in fifteen.”

This answer earned an eager nod and a satisfied smile from Colin. He could wait another fifteen minutes to see his father, but an hour was unacceptable in his eyes. The call ended without another word from Allen. It was fine that he didn’t demand any further explanations because Hank didn’t have one. Whatever reason Colin had for this he was keeping it to himself.

Hank shoved his phone in his pocket and went to grab his coat. Sumo left Colin’s side to follow him, trotting his way almost excitedly. He had been cooped up in the house alone while Hank ran around and pretended to be a cop again. Poor Sumo had spent so much time alone that he likely wanted to get out and stretch his legs. Hank walked to the back door and pulled it open. The cold air rolled in and Sumo brushed quickly past him.

“What are you doing?” Colin asked.

“I’m letting the dog out before we leave,” Hank said as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “He’s been trapped in the house a lot because of me.”

“So?”

Hank scoffed and turned around with a pinched frown. “So, dogs need to get out sometimes. It’s not good to stay locked up on the house all day, every day. It’ll just be a minute so we shouldn’t be late meeting with your dad.”

“It’s fine. The car won’t arrive for another twenty minutes.”

“Your dad will be at the bar in fifteen,” Hank said. His arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Colin smiled. He tilted his head to stare over Hank’s shoulder. Sumo was circling the backyard, his nose digging into dirt near the fence. Colin was looking through him, his focus stayed on Sumo as he wandered around outside. The cold was starting to burn the tip of Hank’s nose, his fingers went numb and he tucked them deeper under his arms.

“What was the point of having him come now then? He could have seen Connor, now he’ll be left waiting,” Hank said coldly. It felt wrong to be part of it, to force Allen to wait to see both of his sons.

“Maybe that is the point. I don’t want him at the hospital,” Colin said.

“You don’t want him to meet Connor?” Hank asked slowly, the words processed through his mind as he spoke them. “Why?”

“I know what’s best for Connor,” Colin said.

“Your idea of what was best for Connor involved keeping him locked in a place that starved, beat, and drugged him. You’re going to get him killed,” Hank said as bitterness curled in his chest and gripped onto him.

“The only reason he’s still alive is because of me.”

“What, because you made sure the people you left him with kept him barely alive?” Hank sneered.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you know how stupid you sound right now? I didn’t leave Connor there, I didn’t make him do those things to himself,” Colin said as he matched Hank’s poisonous tone.

The arguement halted in Hank’s mouth, anything he was ready to shout back had shriveled up and vanished as he considered Colin’s words.

“What did Connor do to himself?” Hank asked.

Colin wrinkled his nose. “You ask too many questions about things that aren’t your damn business.”

“Okay,” Hank said slowly. “But you’re saying Connor put himself in this position?”

“Everything that happened to him is his own fault,” Colin said as he frowned at the empty liquor bottle on the table. “He would have been better off in there than he is out here. You’ll see, you should have listened to me.”

Another question lingered on the tip of Hank’s tongue. Hank kept getting different pieces of some giant puzzle and none of them were fitting together just yet. Colin was stingy with his answers and everything Hank could manage to collect was vague and just sprung more questions.

That made two of Allen’s sons who didn’t want him at the hospital. Whatever he had done had been enough for even Colin, who hadn’t seen the man in twenty years, to not want him near Connor. Both of the brothers had a sense of protectiveness rolling off of them when Connor was involved and Hank was being dragged into it. Connor needed his family but it seemed they wanted to tear each other apart.

“Don’t make a face like that. Whatever you’re thinking, it isn’t your business,” Colin said. His eyes pounded into the side of Hank’s skull, but his attention kept flickering behind him to the dog.

Hank watched Colin. All warmth in the house had flowed out the door and the sun was at an angle where the shadows stretched over the back door. A cool blue tinted the entire room. It washed all the color from Colin’s skin. His face looked cold, his brown eyes peeked out from under his lashes. The smile on his face was still triumphant but also seemed to challenge, as if he expected Hank to keep questioning him.

Hank whistled and Sumo trotted back inside, his fur started to stain with mud. The dog needed a bath, needed a lot of things, but Hank hadn’t gotten around to it. Today he would, Hank decided, he needed to get himself back on track and he would start by taking better care of Sumo. The dog looked up at him and blinked. Even he seemed to doubt Hank’s resolve.

He scratched behind Sumo’s ears until he relaxed on the ground at his feet and was asleep by the time the car pulled up outside. It wasn’t a taxi. Through the living room blinds he could see the black car. The sun reflected against the glossy paint and darkly tinted windows. Colin slid into his jacket and Sumo broke out of his doze. His tired eyes looked up at the coat hooks by the door where the leash had been dangling untouched for weeks. Colin stared back, an intense frown set on his face as he regarded Sumo.

“What does he want?” Colin asked quickly.

“He wants to come with, but Jimmy’s doesn’t allow dogs,” Hank said.

Colin hummed softly, his lips before they pulled back into a look of dissatisfaction. “Certainly Jimmy could make an exception for him.”

“He won’t.”

“I can be insistent,” Colin said.

Hank scoffed and grabbed his own jacket. “I know you are, but it won’t do any good. Big sign right out front and it says ‘no dogs’.”

Sumo whined at their feet as they left, his nose tried to poke through the door but Hank managed to shut it with him still safe inside. He double checked the locks before he left and walked down the cracked cement path down to the street. It was a black BMW with the windows tinted so dark that Hank couldn’t even see the driver inside. Anxiety curled around Hank’s stomach and dug its claws into him to hold steady. He could be murdered in here, his face pressed against the glass so he could watch the world go by and no one would see him die.

Colin had a motive to kill him. Hank was hired and given specifics on how to handle Connor and he had thrown every rule out the window. Colin was unraveling, a wildness burned in his eyes that Hank hadn’t seen at any of their other meetings. It wouldn’t be the worst decision Hank had ever made to get in the car, part of him was ready to accept the inevitable, but he was also still a coward. He stood one the sidewalk and watched Colin walk around the car to get in on the other side, the same fear that forced Hank to slide only one bullet into his revolver now held him frozen in place.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, reminding him that Captain Allen waited for them at the bar and had been there for a while. The window slid down and Colin’s voice called out to him.

“Are you coming?”

Hank grunted in response, but he didn’t know what his answer was. His mind was screaming at him to turn around and go back inside, crawl under the covers, and hope to die peacefully in his sleep. He could always get another bottle later when he woke up alive and still in pain. His body moved on it’s own, whether the need to keep drinking tonight or the desire to see this through to the end, and he opened the car door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank is tired please give him a break
> 
> Nines: I don’t want my father anywhere near my brother
> 
> Hank: It doesn’t feel right to keep a man from his son
> 
> Colin: I don’t want my father anywhere near my brother
> 
> Hank: I’m begging you please just give me a break


	11. Gaslight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Work and life has been crazy but now I get some time off for a little while. Thank you for your patience!

Colin’s palms were damp with sweat and he tried to casually wipe them on the leg of his trousers. Anderson stared absently out the window, his forehead leaned against the glass. There was a fast, urgent patter in Colin’s chest and a restless itch in his fingers that he dutifully ignored. He wanted to be calm, or at least appear that way. He needed to control how they all saw him, what they thought at the sight of him.

He wasn’t even drunk. Anderson kept his spare key under a rock by the porch, like an idiot, Colin was able to slip in with ease. The dog sauntered up to Colin and sniffed at his feet. A faint growl escaped him but he gave up his attempt at intimidation a moment later. The dog lingered at his feet as Colin walked into the kitchen to search through the cupboards. There was a black labelled bottle of whiskey, a brand Colin wasn’t familiar with, but labeled at just barely over fifteen dollars. It was a liquor not bought for the taste, not to be savored and drank slow.

He poured most of it down the drain and set the shot glasses on the table in front of him. He was setting the scene, an appearance of being intoxicated and all Colin had to do was sit down and lean a bit heavily to the side. By all appearances he was drunk and confused. The gun was a surprise, but not one that got in the way. Once Anderson dropped his guard it was easy to get him on the phone and then in the car. Colin knew this was how his night would go, he had prepared for this meeting, but it didn’t make it easier.

The last time he had seen his father just so happened to be one of the worst days of Colin’s life. Anxious resentment flared in his lungs. The memories always came vividly, from the faint sound of shoes on tiled floors to the loud echo of heavy doors sliding shut. Colin closed his eyes and forced a breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes he was still in the car. The faint scent of whiskey hung in the air and culminated next to him. Anderson lifted his head from the window.

“You good?” Anderson asked.

Colin glared out the window, he frowned slightly at the glimpse of Anderson reflected behind him. The man watched him now and moved to sit up straighter. With the attention back on him, Colin put a bit more effort into his act. He let his head lull slightly to the side and shifted in the seat. He let a noticeable, but natural, slur pull at his tongue to hint at the extra whiskey Anderson assumed he drank. The last bit they had drank at the table was barely enough to feel warm.

“Am I giving off a different impression?”

He knew he wasn’t. Colin wanted to be seen as drunk, and that meant he needed to imply a need to escape sobriety. Anderson would be more familiar with that feeling than him. Colin turned his head and waited to see what Anderson’s opinion on him would be.

“You’re giving off a lot of impressions, but none of them are good,” Anderson said slowly with a slight twitch to his eyebrows. “I think you’re upset.”

Colin scoffed, the burst of laughter broke past his lips. His eyes squeezed closed and he shook his head. It was a forced overreaction, but Colin did think it was funny. Anderson thought he was upset that a police raid took his brother away and now he had to go see his father. There was a deep seated resentment there that he couldn’t melt away with warm, safe memories. Connor had tried, he had always been more willing to forgive and forget, but Colin couldn’t. They stopped at a red light and across the street he could see the dully sign that said ‘Jimmy’s’ in faded letters. If Amanda hadn’t specifically instructed him to be here, then he wouldn’t be.

“You don’t have to do this, you know? Like we can go back to my place and rest, I’ll make up the couch for you, and in the morning when you feel better we can go to the hospital to see your brothers,” Anderson said slowly. His eyes drifted past Colin towards the bar.

“Lieutenant Anderson, are you encouraging me to avoid seeing my father?” Colin asked. He tilted his head to the side to face Anderson fully. The car moved forward and he didn’t want to watch their inevitable arrival to the bar. He could already see his father’s motorcycle sitting near the entrance. “I thought you didn’t want to waste his time.”

“Something’s not right with you. Yeah, Allen deserves to meet both of his sons but not if it’s going to hurt either of you,” Anderson said. He held Colin’s gaze even as the car drifted to a stop. “I think maybe emotions are running too high and you should cool off for a bit.”

“Cool off,” Colin repeated. The words rolled off of his tongue. It’s what Amanda had said when Colin had come home and all that was left of Connor was a puddle on the back patio. When he finally learned that his brother was alive, Amanda simply said Connor was tucked away for safekeeping until he ‘cooled off’. “What does that even mean?”

“It means until you feel better. When you’re not feeling so hot headed,” Anderson said.

“Lieutenant, I won't feel better until I get this finished. I can’t do anything else until it is,” Colin said. His hands curled into tight fists, the fabric of his trousers bunched up under his grip. Deep wrinkles began to set in and Colin’s hands opened to urgently pat them out again.

Intoxication usually went hand in hand with sloppiness but the sight of the wrinkles made his skin crawl. Anderson needed to believe he was drunk but that didn’t mean Colin had to look like it. He could see his reflection in the rearview mirror, his hair had fallen out of place, the collar of his shirt was creased, and a thin sheen of sweat stuck to his forehead. He looked awful. Colin couldn’t stand it. He combed his fingers through his hair and tried desperately to put it back into place. He couldn’t get it perfect. There was always a wrinkle.

“If you say so,” Anderson said.

Colin slipped out of the car before Anderson’s doubts could burrow too deeply into his mind. He had to do this. There wasn’t a choice and there was no waiting until he ‘cooled off’ because he had to get this done by the end of the day. There were no choices, all Colin had was the single path in front of him. 

Anderson’s steps fell in line behind him. Colin could see the sign on the door with ‘dogs’ included in a short list of what was forbidden inside. The cold stung at his cheeks and blew straight through his thin jacket until they walked inside. It was warmer in the bar but not by much, at least the wind couldn’t reach them here. He lifted his arms slightly with the intention to wrap them around his chest. Something was uneven inside of him and he wanted to hold it in and keep it in place. It would be a small comfort to him, but it would also be another weakness. He kept his arms tucked neatly at his side.

Anderson raised an eyebrow as he stepped in front of him. He didn’t say anything, but Colin took the time to breathe deeply and remember what he was here for. Amanda would be happy with him, she would be proud, and then she would reward him. He felt the phantom hand on his shoulder as her voice whispered in his ear to remind him of the goal.

Colin stepped around Anderson, brushed past him, and took in the sight of the rest of the bar. It was a dive, the floors looked rarely cleaned with dried stains of dirt and grime. The actual bar was just as dirty, he could see spilled liquor in different states of drying reflected in the low lights. There were people spread out at the different booths and stools, all with the heads tilted slightly down. This wasn’t a bar designed for a fun night out. It was a place for people to just sit and drink sadly.

Years had gone by since Colin had seen his father, but the memories were all freshly burned into his head. He sat at the bar, leaned over a beer bottle as he bounced his leg quickly. Colin walked forward and exhaled through clenched teeth. He could feel Anderson hovering close to him.

“Captain Allen,” Colin said. Formal and impersonal. It twisted in his gut. Their father looked so much like Connor.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, too heavy and the fingers squeezed to form, for it to be his imagination. Allen stood up quickly. On both sides Colin had a man standing too close, the stench of liquor on their breath burned in his nostrils. Captain Allen stepped forward, his arms lifted quickly to reach out. Colin stepped back, shrugged off Anderson’s hand, and moved until his legs nearly stumbled over a barstool. He caught himself before he fell.

“Don’t touch me,” Colin said quickly as both men tried to help him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Sorry, Allen,” Anderson said as he raised his hands in surrender. “He’s had a few drinks.”

They've all had something to drink. It’s been that kind of day. Even Allen was slightly intoxicated, the beer on the bar was unlikely to be his first. They had left him waiting long enough for him to enjoy a few drinks. Colin shuffled back and sat down in the stool. He kept up his act, had only drank a little in front of Anderson, and leaned against the bar for support. 

“Don’t apologize for me. Especially not to him,” Colin said. He let his anger bubble up further, let it make him appear sloppy.

Allen stared at him, his eyes widened slightly as Colin’s voice raised to a shout. That was what drunks did, get into fights. Colin could do that just fine, but his heart pounded hard against his ribcage. His hands twitched around the wood of the bar. Amanda had left very clear and very precise instructions on what he had to do. There was no other option.

“What’s wrong with him?” Allen’s said, the words sounded distant. 

Colin wrinkled his nose, the wood creaked under his grip. Anger burned hot in his belly and tonight was the only time he was ever _supposed_ to let it bubble over. It was supposed to consume him. Part of him wanted to get it over with so he doesn’t have to keep being here listening to that man talk about what was ‘wrong’ with him as if they didn’t already know. As if it wasn’t obvious.

“I’ve never seen him like this, he usually has better control,” Anderson said.

Another part of Colin wanted to see what sort of bullshit his father had to offer on why he didn’t protect them. Why didn't he watch them? Why did no one ever come to bring them home? They were left there, completely abandoned, and now it was too late.

“Colin, son, are you alright?” Allen said.

He was lingering too close. He looked so familiar. Their father looked a lot like Connor. Or rather, Connor looked like him. The same cautious look of concern etched subtly in their features, as if Colin did something wrong. Colin knew he was identical to his brother. The same in exactly every way, right down to their DNA. His hands moved up the front of his shirt to try to smooth out the wrinkles that kept forming and straighten the sleeves of his jacket. He wanted to tug his tie into place. It didn’t feel like it was sitting right. Nothing felt right. The tie was choking him.

“I’m fine,” Colin said. He kept his voice flat. They had already drawn attention to themselves. The bartender had taken notice of them. Maybe it would help his act, if he was truly as drunk as he wanted to seem then they wouldn’t question what he was about to do next. It wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary. He looked up, tension built up in his back, and met the bartenders eye. “Can I get a whiskey, please?”

Usually, Colin had a more precise order. Perfection was expected, even with the drinks he requested, but this time he wasn’t supposed to be perfect. Amanda didn’t want that from him today. Anderson stepped forward, his hand curling over Colin’s shoulder again. It was gentle, just to get his attention with a soft squeeze.

“Maybe we should slow down,” Anderson said.

Colin turned and glared at him, once again he shrugged off the hand. “You of all people want to slow down on the drinks?”

“Colin,” Allen said.

The bartenders sat down the whiskey and Colin wrapped his fingers around it. It was cold, the ice clincked against the glass. His heart was pounding. Colin could only stare down at the brown liquid. He could hear his father shuffle nervously behind him, his feet scraped against the floor tiles.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I thought,” Allen paused. His words tumbled over one another. “Listen after the first forty-eight hours thats pretty much it. I never thought I would see you again.”

He was making excuses. Colin wrinkled his nose. A guilty conscience made his father grasp at every excuse he could come up with for why they all forgot about them. All he could do was stare at his drink as the man spoke, his voice slid closer, until Allen stood directly behind him. Colin could feel the warmth at his back, his father was almost close enough to touch, and he didn’t want to turn around and confirm it.

Amanda thought this would be a reward. Colin would rather not be here at all, but he could see why she thought that. Colin hated his father. He hated his mother. He hated every single person who never bothered to find them. His fingers twitched around his glass. He was supposed to have some sort of sick satisfaction in doing this. Colin closed his eyes and lifted his glass from the bar. He finally turned to face his father.

Allen looked like Connor. It made it easier, in a way.

“I missed you so much. I thought you died, both of you, and I had to move on for the sake of your brother. It destroyed me. You have to understand that, I never would have stopped looking if I had been stronger. I just couldn’t handle it,” Allen said. He kept talking, kept airing his excuses, and it was all for his own benefit. What good did it do for Colin to know that his father thought he was dead.

Colin stepped forward. He held his glass of whiskey tight in one hand. Allen smiled, eyes wide with excited confusion. He was happy with how it all turned out. He was happy to see Colin like this. He was probably thrilled to see Connor like that. Colin pulled his arm back and slammed it up into Allen’s face, right against the bridge of his nose and between his squinty eyes. The shards dug into Colin’s palm. He curled his hand into a tight fist and flung himself against his father. Colin was supposed to be a sloppy drunk and that involved a bar fight.

Amanda was right. Colin did get some sort of satisfaction in slamming his fist into his father’s nose until the shards of glass in his face cut into Colin’s fingers. His heart pounded against his ribcage with each battering of his fist into Allen’s face. Blood smeared together and Colin didn’t even know whose it was. He couldn’t stop once he got started, not until Anderson hooked his arms around Colin’s elbows and hauled him off. They tumbled to the ground, Anderson in a desperate scramble to pin him down. 

Colin gasped for air. It was frozen in his lungs, ice cold, and he wondered if his heart would freeze solid as well. It kept pounding painfully in his chest. It felt good. It had never felt that good before, that much of a relief.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!” Anderson shouted at him.

Once Colin was able to catch his breath he couldn’t help but let out a desperate and exhausted laugh. It hitched in his chest as it forced its way from his throat. He started laughing harder, the tension drained from his muscles. He hated how good it felt because it meant once again that Amanda was right. She always was. Even when Colin hated it, even when the truth was too painful to bear, she was always right. It was hilarious.

“He couldn’t handle it,” Colin said, he choked on the words as he kept laughing. His father’s words repeated themselves. “He said it destroyed him.”

Anderson stared down at him, his eyebrows drawn together and a hard set frown on his face. Anderson didn’t understand. His father didn’t understand. Richard wouldn’t either. The only one who knew was Connor and that was all Amanda wanted him to do before he was allowed to see him.

Colin settled down when all the humor drained from the situation. He laid limp on the disgusting bar floor as his father bled a foot away from him. His right hand throbbed painfully. Broken bits of glass were caught in his fingers and knuckles. Allen’s face looked worse.

Anderson’s hands were curled into tight fists against the front of Colin’s shirt. The fabric wrinkled into messy creases. He gasped for air, all of his energy drained out of him in moments. It was good, almost euphoric, and the painful throbbing on his knuckles kept reminding him what was happening.

“What the fuck?!” Allen said. Colin could see him move to sit up, his hands pressed against his face as blood dripped between his fingers.

“If you guys are gonna cause trouble th-“

“Yeah yeah, Jimmy. We’re leaving,” Anderson said firmly. He didn’t take his eyes off of Colin, his hands still curled tightly onto his shirt.

“Sorry to get you kicked out of your favorite bar, Lieutenant Anderson,” Colin said. He wasn’t apologetic, but it felt like the appropriate thing to do. Colin was, after all, ruining Anderson’s night. It felt fair, since the man had stolen Connor. “If it’s all the same to you, I’m ready to see my brother.”

“You’re fucking insane,” Anderson grunted.

He yanked Colin up off of the ground with a harsh tug to the front of his shirt. The wrinkles were set at this point, the dirt and grime had melted into the white fabric. It couldn’t be helped. His eyes drifted to the bathroom down the hall, where he could fix himself. Instead he was dragged to the front door, he lost his footing and his shoes scraped against the tiles until he was practically tossed outside. Colin stumbled, but stayed on his feet. He swayed only just enough to still appear drunk.

“I’m ready to see Connor,” Colin said. He heard the door behind him and the sound of feet shuffling through the snow.

“No,” Allen said, his voice strained with pain.

“You’re drunk and after that shit you just pulled you’re lucky you’re not getting thrown into a jail cell, let alone take you to the hospital. What’s your problem?” Anderson hissed loudly. His eyes were wide with anger and his hands trembling.

“I need to see Connor,” Colin said.

“Why? You gonna smash a glass in his face too?” Anderson said.

The man was angry. Anderson’s hands were curled into tight fists, his shoulders squared, and his feet set in a bold stance between Colin and Allen. Blood stained the snow that crunched under their boots as it dripped from busted skin. Colin was the violent one, after all. An accusation like that wasn’t unfounded but it still felt like nails digging into his stomach. He was the monster sent to do the dirty work, whether it be a punishment or a message. Colin just did what Amanda told him to do.

She told him that after he dealt with his father then he could see Connor. Colin had always done everything she had asked, the two men in front of him had no authority and no right to keep him from Connor. He reached up and tugged his tie tighter around his neck. The weight of it was easier now. He could suck in a clear and deep breath of the cold winter air. He had to see Connor. The only thing that ever stopped him from being with his brother had finally been lifted. He had permission. There was no reason to waste another moment.

Colin turned around. He knew where Connor was. He knew which hospital, which room, and who would be there. Richard had been there for hours and their mother not too long ago. Neither of them mattered, not in the way that Connor did. After so long, the memories of them were distant and faded, he didn’t care for them anymore. Connor was closer, the promises they used to whisper to each other, the comfort of him, it was closer. Connor was real. Connor was his.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Anderson called out. 

“You never mind your own business. I guess that’s why you were such a good detective,” Colin said as he pulled his phone from his pocket to call for his car. “Once upon a time.”

A hand curled around Colin’s elbow and yanked him to a stop. His phone tumbled from his hands before the message could get sent. Nothing was supposed to be in his way anymore and he refused to let Anderson try. Colin dropped his shoulder and quickly twisted his weight to toss the man over him. Anderson was heavyset, thick and stocky, and he hit the ground hard pained grunt.

Colin considered breaking his arm. One hand curled around Anderson’s wrist and the other dropped to his elbow. He braced himself, ready to slam the flat of his palm into Anderson’s arm. It would be a lesson to him.

He turned his head when he heard the sound rushing up behind him, a quick flutter of footsteps, and then Allen slammed into his side. Cold, sharp metal dug into his wrist as Colin’s face was twisted into the pavement. He still had one free arm and Colin quickly tried to jab his elbow into Allen’s ribcage, but a boot caught his wrist. Colin’s arm was twisted around his back, both of his wrists pressed together as the handcuffs locked shut around them.

“Colin, I can arrest you right now. Do you know how unhinged you are? You could hurt Connor and you could hurt yourself. You just assaulted a police officer,” Allen said quickly. He sat on Colin’s back to keep him down.

“Anderson’s not a cop anymore,” Colin said. He tried to lift himself off of the ground, the snow melted and soaked into his hair and clothes the more he moved.

“No, but I am,” Allen said.

In one quick, fluid motion Colin was yanked up to his feet. His hands weighed heavily behind his back and he knew he could get free of the cuffs if he had enough time but his father was paying too much attention to him. Allen carefully brushed the snow from his jacket, his fingers swept along his shoulders, and then up to shake it all from his hair. Some had already melted and the cold air bit into the exposed cold of his cheeks.

“You’re gonna get sick,” Allen said.

“If I’m under arrest, shouldn’t you be reading me my rights?” Colin asked.

“You’re not under arrest, I just can’t let you go to your brothers right now.”

Colin lowered his head, his chin tucked against his chest. “You have the right to stop me?”

“I’m your father. It’s my job to protect all of you guys and you’re in no shape to. Trust me, you’ll never forgive yourself if you make a mistake in a state like this. You can sober up at my place and we can go see them in the morning,” Allen said.

Anderson coughed. He moved his arm in a circle to work his shoulder. He still squatted in the snow where Colin had thrown him. He spat and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Damn near broke my arm,” Anderson mumbled.

“I need to see Connor,” Colin said again.

“Tomorrow,” Allen said.

Colin frowned. He shifted in spot, the metal cuffs still secured around his wrists. Anderson had been easy to deal with, but his father was still Captain in SWAT.

“I fully intend to cooperate with the investigation, but I could always reconsider. It depends on how soon I see my brother. I understand that right now I seem unstable but I am in control. I won’t hurt Connor, I won’t hurt myself, and what I did in that bar was premeditated and intentional. I demand to see Connor now,” Colin said.

He kept his words flat, his demands settled clearly in the air between them. Perhaps this was Amanda’s plan for him as well. One final punishment for getting Anderson involved. Should would have known this would happen, they were going to keep refusing him and they had a right to. Amanda wanted him to seem crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colin: I need to see Connor
> 
> Everyone: You’re displaying violent snd erratic tendencies 
> 
> Colin: I know. They’re fake and I want to see Connor


	12. Broken Blood

Connor stayed wide awake well into the night. Gavin could see him, his eyes reflecting the streetlights that shined through the window. He blinked sometimes, but he never closed his eyes for more than a second. 

By some miracle, Nines had slipped off to sleep with ease. His weight was heavy against Gavin’s chest, tucked under his shoulder. Tufts of soft brown hair tickled Gavin’s face. It was calming, each slow and deep breath Nines took against his body. It was warm under the thin hospital blanket a kind nurse had brought them when Nines insisted they would both fit on the single rickety rouch in the hospital room. Nines refused to leave Connor tonight. Gavin understood, this was scary. There was still a chance this was all a dream, at least for Nines.

Gavin let Nines sleep. He stayed up to keep an eye on Connor. When the drug tests came back with every narcotic under the sun present in his system in varying degrees. Mrs. Allen had to go home for curfew before the results came back, which was all the better since so little of it was good news. Connor’s body was run down and mistreated, and his first few weeks of freedom would be plagued with withdrawals and detoxing. Gavin worked in Narcotics. He crossed paths with addicts every day. None of them ever looked like they got enough sleep.

“Are you tired?” Gavin whispered. His voice had to be loud enough to carry across the room and over the low hum of machinery.

Nines didn’t move. He didn’t make a sound. A spot on Gavin’s shirt, under Nines’ mouth where he felt the sleeping man breathe against his neck, he could already feel a damp patch of drool. Nines was fast asleep and unlikely to wake up anytime soon.

Connor’s eyes had flickered to them.

“No.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” Gavin said.

Connor looked back to the window.

“It’s so dark,” He said softly.

“That’s what happens at night and the sun goes down.”

Connor twitched. The blanket wrapped around his torso shifted and it bunched up under his restless fingers. It wasn’t like Nines. When He got nervous, the anxiety was carefully controlled. Gavin had gotten used to it, the rhythm of Nines’ quirks. Nines kept his anxiety controlled, carefully wrapped up in logic, numbers, and patterns. So far, Connor’s anxiety was erratic. His hands moved to his front, the blanket pulled upwards to be bunched into a large bundle. His feet, in the tan hospital socks with rubber bottoms, poked out from under the covers. His toes wiggled back and forth with an urgent energy.

The tv was on, the nurses had mentioned out in the halls that the other patients were sleepless as well. Gavin wasn’t surprised. They were all used to working through the night in the windowless concrete rooms of the Eden Club. Connor didn’t watch it and the flickering lights washed out his skin.

“Do you want me to do something?” Connor asked.

His eyes were on Gavin again. The blanket had ridden up Connor’s legs now and the white sheet tangled up around them. His fingers had started to pick fibers loose from the fabric.

“What?” Gavin said.

“Is there something you want me to do while you watch me?”

He didn’t want to have this conversation tonight.

“You can do whatever you want,” he said. It was something he would have to get used to saying. Connor might need reminding.

Gavin closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the flattened headrest. He could try to sleep. It was better than dancing around Connor’s questions, his implications of what he was willing to do. For the rest of the night Gavin would be content just pretending to be asleep. It wasn’t worth it. Connor seemed like a nice kid, soft spoken and well behaved, but it hurt to look at him. The features he shared with Nines looked wrong on Connor’s face.

Nines snorted in his sleep. He pressed his nose flat against Gavin’s chest and the drool smeared over his shirt. The old couch squeaked as Nines shifted in his sleep, it wiggled in place, but still held both their weights. For now at least. Tomorrow they could hopefully go home and sleep in their own bed. In their room, where all of the sounds and smells were safe and familiar. The disinfectant stench of the hospital burned his nostrils and gave Gavin a headache. He didn’t know how Nines managed to sleep like this.

Gavin started to match Nines’ breathing. It was slow and deep, each in and out of hot air that he felt on his neck. Nines became the focal point of Gavin’s focus, the heavy heat against his side that shielded him from the rest of the room. It was easier to pretend to be asleep and share the same peace that Nines had found than it was to remind Connor that he was free from abuse.

He tried not to let his mind drift too far. If it did then he would end up thinking of home and of how they should be asleep in their bed. By pretending to be asleep he could also dream that they were alone. If none of this had happened, they would be home in their own bed, tangled around each other with the cats on top of the blankets. Their apartment was too small, with no extra bedrooms, but they didn’t need any more space. In the dream, Connor only existed in the old photographs and files in the reports Nines studied from time to time.

In the morning they would talk about spending Thanksgiving with Mrs. Allen and how they needed to get their dishwasher fixed because Nines was apparently too good for paper plates. It was nice to just close his eyes and rest. This was as close to sleeping as he would get tonight. He was floating, dozing just under the surface, and nothing existed except Nines’ warm weight on his chest.

Maybe he did end up falling asleep. Gavin felt like he had slipped just far enough when the sudden rush of cold air washed over. Panic shot through him as the blanket was yanked away, the weight against his chest lifted away.

“Nines,” Gavin murmured. He opened his eyes just as the room flooded with light. He squeezed them shut again with a pained groan.

“I don’t understand,” Nines said. His voice was quick and panicked. Fear dripped from his tone. “Where is he?”

Gavin opened his eyes again and frowned at Nines. He stood in the middle of the room, his brown hair stuck up on the side, his face still pink and his eyes wide and disoriented from sleep. Nines had just woken up, the blanket still tangled around his leg. The hospital bed was empty. Connor was gone. Gavin rolled off of the couch and onto his feet.

A nurse stood in front of Nines. Her hands were folded tightly around a fresh bundle of sheets and her eyes were wide with surprise. She craned her neck to look up at Nines. As Gavin came up behind him, a hand pressed between Nines’ shoulder blades, the woman took a step back.

“It’s alright. As I was sayin-“

“He left,” Nines said, quickly cutting her off. His hands waved out in front of him. “But what the fuck does that mean? Where did he go?”

“For a walk. He was quite insistent that he had to stretch his legs. We didn’t want to rile up the other patients and the other officer said she would walk with him,” she said. 

“You let him just leave?”

The nurse blinked. “He wanted to stretch his legs. It’s harmless and we didn’t want to scare the other patients if he became upset. He’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Nines’ back pressed against Gavin’s hand. “He’ll be back?!” He repeated in an accusing shout.

Gavin stepped closer, he reached up to lightly touch his arm and Nines jerked away. He flinched, recoiling from Gavin’s hand as if it would burn him. His blood ran cold at the wide, panicked fear in Nines’ eyes. It was early. A pale blue light filtered in from the window and sleep still pulled at both of them. Nines still looked exhausted. He had been so peaceful through the night and looked like he hadn’t slept at all.

Silence stretched on for a few seconds with Gavin’s hands lingering in the air. Nines stared at him, his body stiff in a defensive stance. Neither of them moved.

“Is everything okay?”

Their heads all snapped towards the door, where Tina stood with a paper coffee cup. Connor stood shielded behind her as he peered curiously at them. Tina raised an eyebrow and waited for an answer.

“Everything’s fine. I just woke up the boys when I came to change the sheets and startled them, is all,” the nurse said with a gentle smile.

“Where did you go?” Nines asked quickly. “Why did you leave? You should have woken me up.”

He still sounded startled, but the tension had drained away from his body. His shoulders curled inward and Gavin stomped down the urge to try and reach out and touch him again. Nines had already been clear he didn’t want that.

Connor stepped around Tina, his head tilted slightly.

“Detective Reed said I could do whatever I wanted. Officer Chen accompanied me. We walked by some windows and look at this,” Connor said. He held out his hands and displayed the white cup he held with steam rising from the brown liquid inside. “It’s tea. They have it downstairs.”

Nines frowned down at the cup before he lifted his eyes to look at Gavin.

“He wanted hot chocolate again but I advised against it,” Tina said.

Connor pulled the cup back closer to himself. “I did something wrong. You’re angry.”

“No, no, I’m not angry. This is great. It’s good,” Nines said. He took two quick steps back and started to rub frantically at his eyes. His breathing came quick and heavy but his voice was carefully controlled when he spoke again. “Did you enjoy your walk?”

The room was silent again except for Nines’ quick breathing. Connor’s eyes flickered around the room and his attention jumped to each of them. He turned slightly to point his back to the wall and ducked his head. He was afraid. It was easy to see why the nurses let Connor wander around without much issue. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and his red rimmed eyes kept bouncing around the room. He looked sick.

Connor had started to detox. They didn’t know exactly how long they had been plying him with drugs and they weren’t able to get a clear answer from Connor. Despite the hospital and all its medications and treatments, Gavin knew the next few weeks were going to be unbearable. Connor was going to suffer through it. He was struggling with it already.

“Enjoy your tea,” Nines said when it became clear Connor wasn’t going to answer him. “I’ll be right back.”

Nines fled to the bathroom. The door slid shut loudly. The whir of running water could be heard in the room, drowning everything else out. Gavin watched the bathroom door. The nurse excused herself first and she whisked away the clean sheets she had brought with her. Tina left right behind her. She gently smiled at Connor and returned to her post outside the door.

The bathroom door stayed shut. Not a sound was heard over the sink. Gavin was tempted to try for the door in case it was left unlocked. Maybe Nines wanted Gavin to come check on him. He took a step closed towards the bathroom. Despite the joy of Connor being back, all of the old wounds were freshly torn open and raw. This was real, Connor was here, but it was so easy to believe it was a dream. Until the DNA results came back, Gavin was ready to believe that Nines would never see his brothers again. They hardly existed before Anderson had called.

“I made a mistake,” Connor said slowly.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I shouldn’t have left. I should have stayed in bed. It won’t hap-“

Gavin quickly raised his hand. “Don’t even go there. I told you to do whatever you wanted.”

Connor clenched his jaw and started to shift nervously in place. His head bowed low as he stared down at his coffee. He held the cup tightly in both hands but had yet to take a sip. The panic still danced around in his eyes and Gavin doubted anything he said would calm Connor down. The tension in the room had already infected him. The endless sound of running water grated in Gavin’s ears as he watched Connor fidget in place.

“He’s angry,” Connor said.

“He’s not angry. He just doesn’t want you to get hurt,” Gavin said. He didn’t know if Connor believed him or not. How used to manipulation had Connor gotten that he second guessed everything they said? It likely didn’t matter, Connor would just go along with everything they told him, whether he believed it or not.

As if to prove a point, Gavin looked at Connor and calmly said, “Go sit down and drink your tea now.” 

Connor only hesitated for a moment before he walked to the bed. His twitching had subsided slightly, the tightness in his muscles slowly drained away, and he sat down on the edge of the mattress. The tea was still steaming when Connor brought the cup up to his lips and waited. As if to double check he was doing it right, his eyes flickered up to Gavin again before he took a sip.

Gavin had to look away. He turned back to the couch and frowned at the blanket draped haphazardly on the floor. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Last night it became clear that Connor wasn’t going to fall asleep and Nines, as a dutiful brother, insisted he stay. Gavin had a chance to go home, Nines had insisted on it too, but the thought of returning to the apartment felt wrong. A sick feeling of worry and guilt twisted in his stomach at the very idea of returning to their apartment alone. The cats would keep him company, but Nines wouldn’t come home with him.

Nines would always choose his brothers. Gavin had known that when they got together but he never thought the choice would come. It was one thing knowing that Nines would drop anything if they found two missing kids from twenty years ago, but another thing entirely to be told to go home because Nines wanted to sleep in Connor’s cramped hospital room instead of coming home with him.

“Bitter,” Connor said.

“What?” Gavin snapped, his nose wrinkled in annoyance as he spun around to face Connor.

The man held out his cup. “The tea is bitter.”

“Did you add sugar?”

Connor blinked and pulled the cup close. He shifted a bit to scoot back further on the bed. No sugar then.

“You can add sugar to tea to make it less bitter,” Gavin said. He frowned as Connor just stared back down at his disposable cup, his fingernail now picking at the rim of the paper. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve never had tea before. I’ll be sure to add sugar next time,” Connor said.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


By morning, Hank had a headache that had started to pound behind his eyes. They all stayed at his place that night. Colin was tossed onto the couch and Allen cleaned himself up before he settled on the armchair. Hank had his own bed and despite the closed door he could still hear the low murmuring that drifted down the hall. It was always Allen who spoke. Colin never responded to him.

The night stretched on without much substantial rest. Hank didn’t bother with a shower though he knew he probably should take one. He wanted to wash everything away in water so hot it nearly boiled his skin. He really should take a shower after last night. Once he got to the foot of the bed he leaned his elbows on his knees. Hank’s head dropped into his hands.

He let out a deep groan and tried to find the reason he had to get out of bed. He wasn’t a cop anymore. He didn’t need to escort Allen and Colin to the hospital. He let them all crash at his house, which was already more than he had to do. They couldn’t say he was an asshole now. Hank didn’t have to be part of this anymore. He had done enough.

There was a quick, urgent knocking against his bedroom door. Hank groaned again as the sound pounded the inside of his skull. He hadn't even drank as much as he wanted to.

“You don’t owe me anything so please just get out of here,” Hank said, just loud enough for him to wince in pain.

The knocking came faster. Louder. Allen’s voice rushed out, “Hank, come on. I need- I need you to open the door!”

Hank had no obligation. They weren’t even friends. They hardly worked together when Hank still had his job. All he and Allen had shared were a few drinks when they both got lost grieving for their boys. He didn’t have to do Allen any more favors.

Another urgent round of knocking and Hank finally decided to get off of the bed for the sake of shutting him up. The pain in his skull pulsed as he got to his feet. It nearly blinded him, the black and white spotted static flooded his vision and the floor swayed underneath him. He squeezed his eyes shut and braced his hand against the wall to stop himself from falling over. More frantic knocking.

“God damn it, Allen! You can’t get the fuck out of my house already,” Hank shouted as he marched over and ripped open his bedroom door. “You don’t have to pay me or anything, you slept in a fucking chair, now please leave me alone.”

“I need you to take Colin to the station,” Allen said quickly.

“Why the f- no!” Hank moved to close the door again. 

Allen stepped forward and nudged his toe into frame to keep it open. “No, no listen. Colin changed his mind this morning. He wants to give a statement about what happened.”

“What? Right now?”

“Yes. He said right now,” Allen said with a nod. He crept closer and curled his fingers around the edge of the door. “I need you to take him.”

“Why can’t you do it?” Hank finally stepped back and let the door swing open.

Allen didn’t cross the threshold, his feet still firmly rooted in the frame. His red rimmed eyes stared blankly at him. “I was kinda hoping, you know, to go to the hospital.”

Of course. Allen wanted to see Connor. He had devoted all night to Colin and he still had one more son he hadn’t seen in decades. Hank turned away from him, his hands settled on his hips as he looked down at his feet. His stomach turned. He felt sick. Hank didn’t drink enough last night and he felt like had drowned in it.

“I’ll beg. I would just really like to see my son. I got them back, Anderson. You have to help me with this. I don’t trust him to go alone,” Allen said. His words came quickly.

Hank pressed his hands into his eyes again. He doubted he had the patience for it. Allen should take Colin to the station. Who gave a shit if he had to wait an extra hour or two to see Connor? The kid would still be there. He had Richard looking out for him and he was still safe and sound in the hospital. Allen still got to have all of his sons back and Hank sti-

He stopped the thought before it finished. He didn’t want it to linger in his brain. Maybe he did need a distraction. If he got into bed and wasn’t able to go back to sleep then Hank would only have his thoughts to keep him company. Somehow that seemed more unbearable than helping Allen see his son faster while suffering a pounding headache.

“Fine,” Hank said. He let his hands drop to his sides. “I’ll take Colin to the station.”

“Thank you. Seriously, I appreciate it. Just make sure he doesn’t get into trouble,” Allen said. Relief caused all of the tension to vanish from his body. He looked exhausted. A nap would probably be the better option but Allen made it clear he didn’t want to wait another moment. 

Colin sat patiently on the couch with Sumo in front of him, head rested on his lap. Unless he found the wall particularly interesting, Colin stared straight ahead at nothing. Hank stopped by the bathroom to pop something for his headache and then made his way to the kitchen. He could already smell fresh coffee, which meant Allen really had been ready to beg for Anderson’s help. He looked back over to Colin, who still didn’t move with Hank in the kitchen and his father rushing out the door with a pleading goodbye that went unanswered.

Even when they were alone, Colin didn’t move or speak. The handcuffs were gone. Allen must have removed them sometime in the night, content that the kid wouldn’t try to hurt anyone else. Hank felt bad for him. For all of them. It made sense that whoever was evil enough to do that to Connor would mess Colin up as well.

“You feeling okay, kid?” Hank asked once he had finished a cup of coffee and poured himself a second.

Colin turned his head to look at him. His expression was flat, more tired than anything else. “I’m fine, Lieutenant. I’m just ready to go.”

“It’s funny because yesterday you seemed really intent on seeing your brother right after you bashed your dad’s face in. Now you’re feeling all better and you want to go to the station. What about Connor?” Hank said. He held his mug in one hand as he leaned back against the counters.

“I still want to see him.”

“But now talking to the cops is more important?”

Colin’s nose twitched. “Nothing is more important. If I’m doing this then I’m doing it for him. I would like to go to the station now.”

Hank sighed. “And you’re just fine with your dad going to see Connor before you do? I just don’t get you. You changed your mind about everything overnight.”

“I haven’t changed my mind about anything. If he sees Connor today then maybe it’s because I’ve thought about it a lot last night. Maybe as I laid awake in your couch, handcuffed as my father told me how much my kidnapping hurt him and the family, I realized that he should go see Connor. Just once, to say goodbye. It’s more than I ever got,” Colin said. The words spilled from him. His eyes shined in the low light that flooded into the living room from the kitchen, framed with dark bags from exhaustion. “I’m ready to go to the station. I think Captain Fowler would be interested in what I have to say.”

The coffee cup lingered near Hank’s lips as he stopped short of taking a sip. Colin’s words filtered through his mind, but one in particular seemed to jolt his thoughts.

“Why would your father say goodbye?”

Colin looked away and continued to stare at some unknown point in front of him. Sumo whined and wiggled his head against Colin’s lap until one of his hands landed on the dog’s nose. The touch was delicate, the kid’s fingers carefully stroked the fur between Sumo’s eyes.

“Colin?” Hank said. He set his coffee cup on the counter. His footsteps echoed on the linoleum floors. “What did you mean about your father saying goodbye? What are you going to do?”

“The only thing I want to do is speak to Captain Fowler and then see my brother.” Colin didn’t bother looking at him.

Hank frowned. Worry twisted in his chest and dug its claws into the pit of his stomach. “I know you’re angry, but your father loves you.”

“Love,” Colin said. His eyes only flickered up to Hank for a moment before he turned his attention back to the dog. “I know he’s your friend, Lieutenant, but this had to be painful for you. The only thing you two could bond over was the fact that you both lost your boys. He just got all of his sons and you get nothing. Tell me, did you love Cole?”

He stepped back, pain and grief flared in his chest. The sound of his name rang in his ears. It swirled in his head. Now that he had heard it, he couldn’t stop hearing it. Hank wanted to scream. He wanted to march the last few steps across the living room and grab him. He wanted to shake Cole’s memory from Colin’s head, where it had no right to be.

“Don’t answer that. Of course you did. All fathers love their children, right?” Colin said. His fingers curled a bit tighter into the thicker bunches of fur. “How much can a father love his children? There has to be limits. My father was very young and he had three boys in such a short time. He dug himself into a hole, built up massive amounts of debt, and worked long hours as a cop. The stress must have been unbearable. Luckily, a few weeks after we went missing, all of my parents credit card debt was paid off. I wonder how much money a set of twins would be worth.”

Hank took a deep breath and closed his eyes halfway through Colin’s story. It didn’t add up. It didn’t sound right. He had sat with Allen, twenty years ago when Hank was a young rookie and Allen was a man plagued by loss. He hadn’t seemed like a man who sold his twins. Allen had appeared broken by it. Hank recalled the shrill, horrible shout that echoed through the station when the boys weren’t found. His voice had cracked and had been raspy for days after. Hank remembered the desks that the man had flipped when someone first said ‘presumed dead’ to Allen’s face. Hank had taken him to get drinks, had listened to him sob and beg for answers from a God that didn’t listen. And then they had drinks again, just a few years ago, when it was Hank’s turn to be broken.

Colin stared at him. Sumo sniffed at his hands for attention, his nose nuzzled into his palm, but Colin kept his eyes on Hank. The meaning of his words hung heavy in the air. It lingered above them, shrouded them, until Hank felt like he couldn’t breathe. He almost didn’t want to believe it. Allen had sounded so raw and so authentic when he dragged Hank to the bar a few years back to tell him that the pain never goes away.

“What are you saying?” Hank asked slowly. He didn’t want an answer.

“You’re not an idiot, Lieutenant. Don’t act like one.” 

Hank huffed. His chest squeezed the air from his lungs and he struggled to inhale again. “Tell me your dad didn’t sell you. He wouldn’t…”

“You don’t know him.”

“You don’t either.”

Colin finally broke eye contact and Hank was able to suck in a strained breath. It was a statement he didn’t want to say. It sat like a rock in his throat. It couldn’t be true. Allen wouldn’t have taken Hank to get drinks, after the accident, after everything. He wouldn’t have said that if he had gotten rid of his sons.

“You don’t know him. I don’t know him. But I know what happened to us. And he said it destroyed him. I want to speak to Captain Fowler right away and dad can say goodbye to Connor because it will be the only time he ever gets to see him,” Colin said.

The kid only had eyes for Sumo now. His fingers scratched behind the dog’s ears and into the thick fur. Sumo loved the attention, he panted happily and had his eyes closed in contentment.

“I would like to go to the police station now. Afterwards we can go see Connor,” Colon said softly. “You should let him meet your dog. It will make him happy.”

“Connor,” Hank said. He reached up and rubbed his hands into his eyes and groaned in annoyance as his headache flared at his temples. “Fine. Let’s go. I look forward to hearing what Jeff thinks of all this. I want to know how you know your father did that.”

As much as Hank didn’t want the answers to the questions in his head, he needed to know the truth. The inquisitive part of his brain had latched onto what Colin had told him. Sumo whined as Colin stood and they made their way to the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin: *Gives Cocoa*
> 
> Tina: *Gives Tea*
> 
> Connor: This is my emotional support hot beverage.
> 
> Please Comment!


	13. Family Affairs

An unsettling, familiar feeling ran up Colin’s spine when he stepped through the doors of the station. He remembered it. Flashes anyway, images that stood out in his mind of himself swinging his feet over the side of his dad’s desk. Connor used to wander around the bullpen and talk to any detectives he saw with a thousand questions on his tongue. Richie liked to dig through the paper wastebaskets until someone finally picked him up and propped him on a hip to keep him out of trouble. Colin didn’t know why such simple, rudimentary moments had caught hold in his mind, but they had. Looking back, Colin couldn’t even understand why his father ever brought them to work to begin with. They couldn’t have made things any easier.

The building hadn’t changed much. The computers on the desks had been updated and at some point they had painted the walls. The reception area was now sectioned off with people behind glass walls and key card access needed to go any further. Anderson wasn’t a cop anymore, he was a civilian and was stopped at reception just like everyone else.

“Hello Hank, we haven’t seen you around in a while,” The woman behind the glass said with a soft smile.

Anderson shrugged. “Well, Jeff said the next time I try to get in here he will toss me in a cell for trespassing and I figured I could use someplace warm to nap.”

“So you came here?” The woman raised an eyebrow.

“I also brought a guest. He needs to speak to Fowler right away,” Anderson said. 

He nodded over his shoulder to Colin and the receptionist’s eyes followed. They lingered on him with a stunned expression. Colin could feel the weight of many eyes on him, the whispered murmurs floated through the foyer so the sounds still rattled in his ears. He had gathered everyone’s attention. Of course, they had looked at Richard every day when he reported to work. When he walked through these doors and smiled at the receptionists. They recognized his face in Colin’s. They were near identical after all.

The receptionist offered a strained smile as her focus darted back and forth between them. She picked up the phone and pressed it to her ear. Whoever she called needed a single button to dial. A direct line to Captain Fowler, Colin hoped. They all know who he was, he had two family members in the police force and their history had to be known. They all looked at him as if he was a ghost.

They were ushered through the doors and into the bullpen. This place was even more familiar. The shape of the room was how he remembered, though significantly smaller. The desks had all been rearranged. They now stood as tall as his hip, but he remembered when they reached his chin. His eyes drifted over everything. Colin couldn’t see every nameplate, but he did find Reed’s. The one across from that was unknown. It seemed almost empty compared to Reed’s, it missed post-it notes and scattered papers, but nine pens sat in a ceramic flower pot decorated with faded paint. Was that Richard’s desk? 

There was a bulletin board near the breakroom, a snack machine stood exactly where he had always been, and a yellow poster reflected the fluorescent lights. It was laminated to preserve it, with Colin and Connor’s childhood photos on display, and had likely been left there for a long time.

Colin breathed quickly through his nose and turned away from it. Instead he glared at the back of Hank’s head, his hands curled into tight fists. He had the story straight in his head. He knew exactly what he was supposed to say and what evidence there was to go along with it. By the end of the day, Colin would be with his brother as a reward and his father would be in a jail cell.

Captain Allen was a veteran police officer with decades on the force and he was going to be locked away in this very building. He looked over to the holding cells. People shifted around on the other side of the transparent walls. Some were regular criminals and others were from the club. Amanda said there hadn’t been enough time to clear the place, all of the assets taken by the police and their employees behind bars. He saw a glimpse of blonde hair and a patch of blue fabric in the holding cell.

“Where you going? Fowler is this way.” Anderson called out as Colin stepped out of line.

He kept moving towards the cells. Colin didn’t blink as he found a better view. Chloe’s face wasn’t hidden. He could easily tell it was her, he recognized each soft curve and sharp point in her features. She hadn’t seen him yet. Her attention was focused on her hands as they sat folded in her lap. Chloe looked tired, her head tilted to lean against the wall.

“Colin, what are you doing?” Anderson said. His hand curled around Colin’s elbow and halted him.

“Get your hand off of me,” Colin said coldly. He pulled his arm from the other man’s grasp. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Anderson lingered by his side, but he looked on past him towards the holding cells. The older man’s face was firmly set like stone, his wrinkles deepend as he searched for whatever Colin was walking towards. He must have found it. Anderson’s features smoothed out and he stood a bit straighter. His shoulders squared as he glanced from Colin to the cells behind him.

He nodded in that direction. “You selling her out too?”

“No,” Colin said quickly. He turned to look at her. She shouldn’t be in there. Chloe hadn’t noticed him yet. Her eyes were half closed as she gazed down at her hands. “No, I just need to talk to her.”

Colin had no idea what he would say to her. It had been a long time, too long, and he clenched his jaw tightly as he walked up to the clear wall. His feet felt heavy, which slowed his stride and he couldn’t seem to walk any faster. He lifted his hand and laid it flat against his chest, under his collar. Bare fabric wrinkled under his splayed out fingers. There was no tie for him to straighten. Instead, he quickly ran his hands through his hair in a desperate attempt to comb it back. Nothing could be helped about his clothes. Chloe didn’t look up, not until he stood directly above her and pressed his hand to the glass.

She turned her head and slowly her eyes drifted up towards him. She stared at him with a hesitant, blank expression. Then, with a single blink, she pushed herself up to her feet. The wall separated them, but Colin leaned in close until his breath fogged up the glass.

“You look awful, Colin. What happened?” She whispered.

He huffed. A smile broke past his lips at the sound of his name. “I got into a fight last night. Slept on an old man’s couch with his dog. Well, I didn’t really sleep at all.”

Chloe nodded, her eyes flickered up and down his frame. “Are you under arrest?”

“Not yet, I don’t think,” Colin muttered. He pressed his forehead to the glass as he continued to smile at her. He wanted to open the doors and grab her into his arms. He wanted to scream and let all of the bubbling excitement release from his chest. “You look great though. When you were sent away I had assumed the worst.”

“I did too. Being one of his favorites made me very fortunate. It wasn’t so bad for me,” Chloe said in a hushed whisper.

“How long have they kept you at the club?” Colin asked. Most people who got sent there, as a punishment most of the time whenever they became more trouble than they were worth, and they never came out again. The club was used as a threat when they were children. Whenever they tested the rules a bit too much. When they sent Chloe away, Colin had prayed it wasn’t to the club.

“The entire time, but don’t worry. Hardly anyone touched me. They had me working the more business side of things. As I said, very fortunate,” Chloe said. “So you don’t have to feel guilty, if that’s what this is about.”

Colin stepped back from the wall. He looked over his shoulder towards Lieutenant Anderson, whose eyes were still glued to Colin despite the conversation he was having with a few other detectives. All of them kept glancing his way as if they were all waiting to hear what he would say next. He couldn’t admit guilt, not without admitting to what he had done.

“I’m going to get you out of here. Amanda is letting me keep Connor. I’m going to talk to the Police Chief now, I’m cooperating with them, and I can get you out too. You can come home with us,” Colin said quickly as he returned to the glass.

Chloe shook her head. “Colin, I can’t go home.”

“Yes you can. Amanda won’t mind.”

“I don’t want to. This is our chance,” Chloe said, 

“Our chance to what? We could all be together again. You can see your sisters. I can have Connor. Isn’t that what you want?” Colin said. He braced his hand on the wall and leaned towards her. He hadn’t seen her in years. They hardly had a chance to say goodbye and it was right after Connor had been sent away too. “You’ve seen Connor, right? Amanda told me he was there. She told me he was alive.”

Chloe stepped back with a frown. She looked over his shoulder with a soft tilt of her head. “You haven’t seen him since the fall. That’s why you sent Mr. Anderson.”

“How do you know I sent him?” Colin asked.

“A turkey and cheese with mayo. Wheat bread. That’s your sandwich,” Chloe said.

“It’s Connor’s sandwich.”

Chloe smiled and shook her head. “Connor always prefered peanut butter and jelly. You and I both know that.”

“That amount of sugar wouldn’t be good for him.”

Chloe’s smile stiffened. She looked down to his hands, busted and bandaged together. “You sound like Amanda when you say that,” She said. She laid her hand over his and Colin wished he could feel the warmth of it through the glass. “Has she told you about the extent of his injuries? I was there to take care of him, when we were both sent away after the incident. He’s not the same anymore.”

Colin closed his eyes. He couldn’t feel her or touch her, but she was right there on the other side of the glass. They were inches from each other. Colin could see her and hear her but she was so far away. She had watched Connor starve in that club for the past few years, but he didn’t think anything she had done made her deserve to be locked away for longer.

He looked over his shoulder to Anderson, who waited with his arms crossed over his chest and leaned back against a desk.

“I’m going to get you out of here, Chloe. I promise,” Colin whispered to her.

Chloe hadn’t done anything wrong and she wouldn’t be the one to suffer for it all. He tried to pat the wrinkles from his clothes and gave Anderson a curt nod. They should continue on because the sooner they finished here the sooner he could get to Connor. He avoided the man’s gaze. There was a hollow sense of nausea that curdled in his stomach. Captain Fowler stood at the clear walls that surrounded his office and watched as they walked up the steps.

“Colin, welcome,” Fowler said as he stepped forward to offer his hand. “I’m overjoyed to finally have you walk through my door. I hoped I could welcome you back one day.”

The man sounded sincere. The carefully preserved missing poster with their faces on it rang true that the police intended to one day find them, even decades after they called off the final searches.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I understand that you used to be one of the investigators on my case,” Colin said.

Fowler's expression flickered, his eyebrows twitched, but he didn’t ask how Colin knew that. Instead he looked towards Anderson. It wouldn’t be proper police procedure if they allowed for a disgraced former detective to take a formal place in the investigation, but Anderson was already involved. Colin had hand picked him to be a bridge to Connor and the job wasn’t finished yet.

“I’m here to help fill in the blanks. I know quite a bit about what happened to us. I can help close this book for all of us,” Colin said. The words rolled off of his tongue like memorized lyrics or the lines of a play. He knew exactly what he was supposed to say and then he would be allowed to have everything he wanted. “However, I have a few demands in exchange for my cooperation. Especially since one of your officers was involved with our abduction and exploitation.”

Colin tried to appear firm and unyielding. Amanda would be pleased with the amount of control he displayed in his tone and posture. It needed to seem like he had some but of power over himself.

Fowler nodded and gestured to his desk and the surrounding seats. “I’m sure something can be worked out. Let me hear what you have to say.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Gavin saw the sick look on Nines’ face when his father came into the room. The two of them retreated to the corner, where a thin cushion was placed over a window seat that overlooked the parking lot . He was surprised that Nines didn’t tell his dad to leave the moment he poked his head into the room. Nines didn’t even ask for an explanation as to why he left in the first place and why he bothered to come back.

Allen whispered to Connor. The soft sounds of his voice reached them at the window but neither of them wanted to put forth the effort to listen. Gavin just sank into the contentment of having Nines in his arms. He had been too tired to do anything else besides that once he had finally emerged from the bathroom. The collar of his shirt had been soaked through and Nines’ eyes were red as if harshly scrubbed. It worried him, how emotionally exhausted Nines was by all of this today, but Gavin couldn’t do anything else except hold him.

Connor’s voice was louder when he responded to Allen’s whispers. Simple responses to questions that they couldn’t hear. Most of the time it was an ‘I don’t know’ or an ‘I can’t recall’ as Allen spoke more and more. At least their reunion was peaceful. Nines didn’t argue with his father in front of Connor and Allen gripped his son’s hand as he was too afraid to let go again. The fear probably lingered there, dormant inside of both of them and now wide awake, that any moment they closed their eyes the poor kid would disappear all over again. His mother had a similar reaction. The poor woman had broken down into tears when she had to step out of the room.

“He’s so full of shit,” Nines muttered. His head was tucked against Gavin’s chest.

“What?”

“Dad. He’s telling Connor about the treehouse, as if he was some hero for fucking building it in the backyard for us,” Nines said.

Gavin looked over at the other two. Nines must have been paying more attention than he appeared. Always a good detective, listening even when no one thought he was, because Allen was speaking so softly to Connor with a gentle smile and Gavin had to strain to hear the words. It was just about the treehouse. A picket fence. Even a dog house. An Idyllic childhood that Connor had plucked from his grasp and wasn’t even able to remember.

“He’s talking about it more for his sake than for Connor’s,” Nines said.

“I’m sure he just doesn’t know what to say. You didn’t either,” Gavin said. He kept his tone light and easy in an attempt to not step on toes. “It’s his first day out, maybe a conversation about a tree house will be good for him. Not overwhelming.”

Nines shifted a bit, the top of his head pressed into the space under Gavin’s chin. Hair tickled at his neck. Nines’ voice was even softer this time, Gavin could hardly distinguish his voice from the soft murmurs across the room.

“Am I overwhelming him?”

“No, no it’s not you. I think he’s just really confused,” Gavin said.

He looked over to Connor again and carefully searched his eyes for distress. His attention was captured by Allen’s hands. Connor hardly looked at anything else even as he gave basic, tired responses to everything the man said to him. Allen was telling Connor about their old house, but their hands were intertwined. The chair sat close to the bed, but Allen still leaned in close to speak. He wouldn’t let go of Connor’s hand and that was all the kid seemed to be able to look at.

“You probably shouldn’t touch him,” Gavin said.

He hadn’t thought to say it until Anderson’s voice rang in his head. A reminder from the club, from when he had first seen Connor and he had reached out for him. Then too, all he had done was stared at Gavin’s hands.

“Excuse me?” Allen said, his eyebrows twitched and furrowed, but his hand squeezed tighter.

Nines moved to sit up but Gavin tried to keep his arms around him. He hated the rush of cold air that always draped over him whenever Nines moved away. His nose wrinkled and despite Gavin’s efforts he slipped off the window seat and onto his feet.

“It’s fine,” Connor said quickly. His eyes flickered up to Nines now that he was standing. “You can all touch me however you like.”

“Let him go,” Nines said.

Allen pulled his hands away and leaned back in his seat. Connor’s eyes darted quickly between the three of them, his fingers curled tightly around the blanket in his lap. His shoulders squared and he too seemed to lean away from Allen. His head tilted downwards but he kept his attention on them without meeting their eyes. Gavin reached out and grabbed Nines’ hand.

“Babe,” Gavin said softly. He stood behind him and whispered with his lips hovering next to Nines’ ear. “Remember, don’t overwhelm him.”

Connor was scared. He wouldn’t admit it and Gavin could tell he was trying not to show it. He wanted to seem okay and he was very good at it. There was hardly a twitch to his expression, not even a frown. Gavin shouldn’t have said a thing. He should have kept his mouth shut. What was more frightening to him after escaping sex trafficking, one stranger holding his hand or a group of them making a big deal about touching him.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin said louder.

His eyes were the only place Gavin could see the fear clearly. The fearful look haunted him ever since he had first laid eyes on him in the club. Even on the stage in the dimly lit club, his attention was on a man with his fingers in Connor’s mouth, and his eyes full of fear. Connor was still afraid as he looked at Gavin.

“What was that?” Connor asked.

Nines leaned back against him, the warmth melted into Gavin’s chest. “I’m apologizing.”

“To me?”

“Well, I shouldn’t have said anything. Remember when we talked outside and I said that if you get scared you can ask for space. You don’t have to let people touch you, but the choice is yours. So, I’m sorry,” Gavin said. He didn’t know what else to say. It wouldn’t matter. 

Connor couldn’t remember a single moment outside of that place and Gavin couldn’t teach him about person space and what consent was. He wasn't a psychiatrist or a parent. Nothing he said would make any difference in Connor’s mindset. He was back to staring at Allen’s hands, his eyebrows drawn together as he shifted through his thoughts. Gavin didn’t know if he was helping at all being here. Maybe Nines would relax a bit if Gavin left and stopped throwing in doubt all the time.

There was a quick knock on the door and everyone’s heads snapped up in unison. Nines tensed against Gavin, his hand reached up and clutched at Gav’s shirt as he pressed closer. There were too many visitors, even Gavin felt his skin crawl, a sinking in the pit of his stomach, because he hadn’t see Anderson and Fowler in the same place in a very long time.

“Hank!” Connor said, a sudden lightness in his tone as a smile slipped across his expression. 

Nines huffed softly. “It’s good to see you, Captain Fowler. Are you here to finally meet my brother?”

“Of course,” Fowler said with a quick and strained smile. “First, I was hoping I could talk to your father outside. Just for a moment.”

Allen frowned, he looked at Connor, but his attention was solely on Hank. The fear had vanished, the look in his eyes had softened, and Gavin took a step back. Allen must have noticed the look as well and frowned. He looked back and forth between them.

“I’m busy, I’m sure it can wait until next time I come into work,” Allen said. 

He reached out and his hand stopped suddenly in the air. Connor watched them curiously, his attention broke away from Hank for the first time since he had appeared at the door, and waited for his father to touch him. Allen pulled his hand back quickly.

“Actually, it’s pretty serious. This can’t wait,” Fowler said.

“I’m sure it can.”

“Captain Allen, I don’t want to do this, but it would be easier on all of us if you step out with me right now,” Fowler said with a stern voice. 

Gavin had to turn away, his head ducked down slightly as he faced the window. Whatever Fowler wanted with Allen, it would likely piss Nines off. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, the headache he had been nursing for days was starting to pound behind his eyes. He really didn’t belong here. He could be a supportive boyfriend from home, he could use the excuse of getting a space ready for Connor. Gavin would do anything to make this easier for Nines, but right now he wanted to do it from home.

“Alright. I’ll be right back,” Allen said in a soft voice.

Gavin let his hands drop back down to his sides. Red and blue glass sparkled down below, a half dozen police cars lingered below. There were more than earlier, the police protection offered to the people they rescued had been here since the night before but there were a few cars that were new. 

“Hey.”

Nines’ voice sounded soft behind him, over by the door as if he had gone to follow his dad out. Gavin felt a hand on his back and a quick tug to his shirt.

“Oh my god,” Nines whispered. This time his voice was directly behind him.

Gavin spun back around in confusion. There Nines still stood next to him, close enough to feel his body heat in the cold hospital room. And there Nines was again standing in the entrance, his hand braced on the doorframe and stared at Connor.

“There’s two of you,” Connor said.

Nines stepped towards him, further away from Gavin. None of them had met Colin yet, except for Anderson. The old man stepped off to the side with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His back was to most of the room, even to Connor who still looked genuinely happy to see him. Gavin had heard Anderson’s suspicions of the kid and finally seeing Nines’ other brother confirmed just why he gave off a bad vibe.

Gavin could sense the tension rolling off of him, the tightness of his muscles left him stiff and his back straight as a board. He was shorter than Nines, but taller than Connor. They were all identical, from the voice to the hair and the sour expression on their face. Except for Connor, who looked starved, pale, and sick. Colin’s clothes were wrinkled and dirty, smeared with dark stains and dried blood around his cuffs. If Gavin had to guess, Colin’s busted knuckles had something to do with Captain Allen’s busted face and black bruises.

“Hey,” Colin said again. He stepped further into the room and slowly made his way towards Connor. His hands tapped at the front of his button down shirt and lightly brushed at the fabric. “I know you didn’t expect to see me. I’m sorry I’ve been gone. I’m really sorry. You have to be upset with me, but I would have come for you if I could.”

Colin glanced over to them, his eyes drifted over each of them before his attention went back to Connor. He sat down in the chair Allen had just vacated and leaned towards his brother. Nines was drawn to the two of them with some sort of gravitational pull. He left Gavin by the window. This was the first time all three of them had been together and Gavin understood that his place was to stay at the window just like Anderson had decided his place was in the corner by the door.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Connor said with a soft nod. “What would you like me to call you?”

“You don’t have to talk like that with me, you know that. If you’re nervous about these guys,” Colin gestured around the room and then let his hand fall to Connor’s, “...don’t be. I won’t let any of them hurt you. I’m going to take care of you better.”

Connor blinked. His eyes flickered down to his hand. The grip on his fingers were strong enough to turn his fingers white. Nines moved slowly. He hadn’t said a word and his footsteps were soundless. Colin didn’t even look at Nines until he touched his shoulder. It surprised him, he shrugged off Nines’ hand and turned on him quickly. Colin’s nose wrinkled, but his fingers gripped tighter to Connor’s hand. Gavin bit his tongue this time and didn’t bring attention to it.

“Don’t touch me,” Colin said.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. I just can’t believe you’re really here. Both of you,” Nines said. He combed his fingers through his hair and gripped tight. A tired laugh escaped his lips. 

Connor looked back and forth between them before he settled on Nines. “You didn’t tell me there were two of you.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know me. Don’t do that,” Colin said with the shake of his head.

“You’re right. I know you,” Connor said quickly.

“Don’t pretend with me. I hate that.”

Nines cleared his throat. “Colin, I’m glad you’re alright. I’m so happy you’re both back.”

“I know, Richie. I know you missed us,” Colin said softly. He stared only at Connor. “I know you’ve been looking for us for a long time, but I haven’t seen Connor in a couple years and I need a moment with him first.”

“I’ve waited twenty years. You guys were stolen from me. I’m way behind on moments,” Nines said in a firm voice. He looked back to Gavin, his jaw clenched tightly.

“You don’t have to tell me about what this situation did to you. I’ve had enough of that.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry, but I think you’re making Connor nervous,” Nines said with a softer tone to his voice. “I want us to be brothers again. I don’t want to fight.”

“I want to be brothers too, but I can’t have Connor pretending he doesn’t know who I am. That’s not fair.”

Nines looked back at Gavin again with an unspoken plea for support. His eyes were red and glistened with tears he blinked away before they could fall. Gavin couldn’t go home even if he wanted to, whether or not Nines’ was angry with him, because he couldn’t let him struggle alone.

“Connor doesn’t remember you,” Gavin said quickly. It was a hard truth but it apparently wasn’t obvious enough for Colin.

“I remember,” Connor said.

“Excuse me,” Colin narrowed his eyes on Gavin. His shoulders hunched slightly towards Connor and it was making Gavin nervous that he might break his fingers.

“Connor told me the other day. He doesn’t remember anything before the club,” Gavin said.

Colin shook his head. “That’s not possible. It was only a few years ago. Connor, we grew up together, I know you’re mad at me for leaving you but I swear all I’ve ever done was try and get back to you,” Colin’s voice was fast and urgent. He finally pried his hand off of Connor’s, instead opting to cup his face. His fingers curled around His brother's jaw and around the curve of his neck. “You remember. I know you do, even if you’re scared right now. It’s impossible you don’t know who I am and what we have.”

“I remember,” Connor said.

There it was in his eyes again. Confusion, caution, and fear. Gavin stepped closer and Nines held a hand out to him. He grasped it and Nines sucked in a shaky breath.

“It’s not impossible. The doctor said Connor had a bad head injury a few years ago,” Nines said slowly. 

Anderson shifted on the other side of the room and Connor slipped from Colin’s grasp to look at him. Anderson watched Nines, his nose wrinkled in a stoney expression and his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He didn’t know what the doctor had told Nines, even Gavin didn’t know everything they discovered about Connor’s examination, so this was a curveball. He had already noticed the spiderweb of white scars under his hairline like shattered glass.

“He remembers,” Colin said.

“I remember,” Connor repeated. His voice was flat, his lips pressed together in a firm line. The words sounded empty, even Connor didn’t believe what he had said.

Colin grabbed his hand again and squeezed tight. Connor’s eyes broke away from Anderson and flickered down to his fingers. A soft sigh escaped him.

”Do you remember what happened?” Colin asked.

“I remember,” Connor said again.

”What happened?”

Connor hesitated. His fingers wiggled in Colin’s grip. He shifted in his seat. He was already stressed, already past overwhelmed despite everyone’s best intentions. It hadn’t showed, but they all know what fear looked like when it was buried down inside.

”I hurt my head,” Connor said. He reached his up his free hand. His fingers brushed through his messy hair and traced the pattern of his scar. “Right here.”

Colin stared. His nose twitched as his expression twisted to a grimace. “You don’t know,” Colin said softly. He turned his head to Nines and Gavin. “Our dad is being arrested right now. You two should go check on him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colin: I missed you so much T-T It was torture being apart from you. I have a lot of deep seated trauma on this that I won’t discussed extensively just yet
> 
> Connor: thanks! I have no idea who you are uwu


End file.
